LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. J: 



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I UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




55 

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CECIL'S BOOKS 



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Natural History. 



Part I. — Beasts. 

Part IL — Birds. 

Part III. — Insects. 



BY 

selim h;peabody. 



; 

PHILADELPHIA: 

CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER, 

624, 626 & 628 Market Street. 

rt 8 l 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by 

SEUM H. PEABODY, 
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



QLbo' 



He prayeth well who loveth well 
Both man and bird and beast; 
He prayeth best who loveth best 
All things, both great and small; 
For the dear God who loveth us, 
He made and loveth all. 

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, 



Sometimes a-dropping from the sky 
I heard the skylark sing; 
Sometimes all little birds that are, 
How they seemed to fill the sea and air 
With their sweet jargoning ! 

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. 



And there 's never a leaf nor a blade too mean 

To be some happy creature's palace. 

Lowell. 

O happy living things! no tongue 
Their beauty might declare : 
A spring of love gushed from my heart, 
And I blest them unaware. 

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS, 



PART I. 



BEASTS. 



About Sc^uiri^els. 



The Long-eared Squirrel, Sciurus macrotis . . . Frontispiece. 

Squirrels: Their names — The Red Squirrel — Its nest — The Gray 
Squirrel — The Long-eared Squirrel — The Chipping Squirrel — 
Ground Squirrels — The Striped Gopher — The Flying Squir- 
rel — Squirrel frolics — Their journeys — Their teeth — Squir- 
rels in cities — Squirrel lessons 11 

About Beavers, 

Beavers at Work, Castor Canadensis. 

Beavers: Work like a beaver! — Their teeth — Their dams — Their 
tails — Their houses — Their skins — Roasted beaver — Tame 
beavers — Their ability to reason 29 

About Deer. 

The American Elk, Alces malchis. 

Deer: Their horns — How they grow — The Chase — The Stag — The 
Fallow Deer — The Roe-buck — The Wapiti — Adventure with a 
wapiti — The Virginia Deer — Night hunting — The Elk — Elk 
yards — The Reindeer — Milking in Lapland — God's care for 

deer . 43 

V 



V i CONTENTS. 

About Bats. 

The Vampire Bat, Tampyrus spectrum. 
Bats: How they eat — Useful like toads — Their wings — The Black 
Rousette — The Kalong — The Vampire — Do they suck blood — 
Flitter-mice — Folded-ears — Tamed* bats — Poetical treat- 
ment of bats 67 



/ 



bout Seals, 



The Cassm Seal, Pfuoca cristate. 
Seals : How fish breathe — Seals not fish — The Common Seal — Catch- 
ing seals — A tame seal — The Harp Seal — The Crested Seal — 
The Elephant Seal — The Sea Lion— The Sea Bear— The 
Walrus 81 

About Cattle. 

The Americas Bison, Bos Amerieanuz. 
Cattle : ' ' When the Cows come home" — The value of the Ox — Cattle 
introduced into America — Varieties of English Cattle — The 
Brahmin Bull — The Bisox — Hunting the bison — What the 
Indians do with him — The European Bison — The Buffalo — 
Battle with a Tiger— The Arnee — The Cape Buffalo— The 
Yak — The Musk Ox — Worship of cattle. . . . .99 

About Beaf^s. 

The Black Bear, Ursus Amerieanus. 
Bears : Description — Sleep in winter — The Black Bear — Eats honey — 
The Brown Bear — The Grizzly Bear — The Polar Bear — 
Catches seals — His great strength — Hunting the White Bear — 
Mrs. Bear' s nursery — The bear's nature 123 

About the Rhinoceros, 

The Keitloa, Rhinoceros bicornU. 

The Rhinoceros ; The Indian jungle — General description — The 

horn — The Indian Rhinoceros — The Javanese Rhinoceros — 

The Keitloa — The Borele — The White Rhinoceros — The food 

of the Rhinoceros — The ancient Unicorn 



CONTENTS. 



The Hippopotamus — Its home — In the Limpopo — dimming and the 

Sea-cow — How the natives take the Hippopotamus — Behemoth 139 

About Several Funny Fellows. 

The Kangaroo, Macropus major. 

The Duckbill: Queer things in Australia — The Duckbill's name — 

Appearance of the living creature — His home .... 
The Kangaroo : Description — The Boomerang — The Tree Kangaroo — 

The Brush-tailed Bettong 

The Opossum: The Virginia Opossum — 'Possum hunting — How it 

hunts — How it feigns death - Its nest 
The Ant-eater: The Aard-vark — The Great Ant Bear — The Little 

Ant-eater 159 



About Antelopes. 

The Sable Antelope, JEgocerus niger. 

Ahtelopes: The Gazelle — Hunting the gazelle — The Spring-bok — 
" Trek-bokken" — The Sasin — The Klip -springer— The Mado- 
qua — The Pigmy Antelope — The Water-buck — The Sable 
Antelope — The Gems-bok — The Water-root — Fight between 
gems-bok and lion — The Oryx — The Eland — The Nylghau — 
The Gnu — The Chamois — The Prong-horn Antelope . .183 



bout +<ats. 



About -R 



The Norway Rat, Mm decumanus. 

Rats: Their migrations — Killing them in Paris — The Norway Rat — 
How he works — How to destroy him — Old Brownie's Chick- 
ens— The usefulness of rats 206 



CONTENTS. 



PART II. 



BIRDS 



About Swallows. 



The Fairy Martin, ffirundo artel Frontispie 

Swallows: Their migrations — Their food — The Australian Swift — 
The Alpine Swift — The Common Swift — The Barn Swallow — 
The Chimney Swallow — The Sand Martin — The Purple Mar- 
tin — The Fairy Martin — The Red-necked Swallow — The Palm 
Swift — Edible birds-nests '. 



A 



bout Blackbirds. 

The Bob-o-Link, Dolichonyx orizivorus. 

Blackbirds : Immense flocks — The Purple Grakle — The Red- winged 
Blackbird — Its nest — Its usefulness — The Cow Blackbird — It 
steals its nest — The Bob-o-link — Who teaches the birds . 31 

The O'Lincon Family 46 



About Woodpeckers. 

The Downy Woodpecker, Picus pubescens. 

Woodpeckers: General characteristics — Their nests — The Downy 
Woodpecker — The Ivory-billed Woodpecker — Wilson's cap- 
tive — The Red-headed Woodpecker — The Golden-winged 
Woodpecker .51 



CONTENTS. 



About Doves. 

The Crowned Pigeon, Gaura coronaia. 

Doves : The Rock Dove — Domestic Doves — The Dove-cote — Curious 
varieties of Doves — The Carrier Pigeon — The Turtle Dove — 
The Zenaida Dove — Pigeons — The Passenger Pigeon — Im- 
mense flocks of pigeons — A Pigeon roost — Food required for 
them — The Oceanic Fruit Pigeon — The Crowned Pigeon — The 
Dodo 65 

About Crows. 

The Carrion Crow, Corvus corone. 

Crows : Prejudice against them — The Raven — His mischievous ways 

— The Carrion Crow — The American Crow — His shrewdness 

— His usefulness — Tame Crows — The Rook — Colonies of 
Rooks — Their courts of justice — The Jackdaw — A Jackdaw 
lights fires — Is afraid of thunder — The Magpie — His lesson 
in nest-building. — His thievish tricks — Superstitions about 
Magpies 87 

About Humming-Birds. 

GrROUP OF HUMMING-BlRDS. 

Humming-Birds : They live only in America — Their food, nectar and 
insects — The Ruby-throafr — Webber's birds — The Long-tailed 
Humming-Bird — The Puff -legs — The Flame-bearer3— The 
Sappho Comet — The Chimborazian Hill-Star — The Vervain 
Humming-Bird — Humming-Birds do not sing . . . 113 



About Qwls. 



The Snowy Owl, Xyctea nizea, with Owlets. 

Owls: General description — The Snowy Owl — The Burrowing Owl — 
The Great Horned Owl — The Virginian Eared Owl — The Mot- 
tled Owl — The Tawny Owl — The Barn Owl — The mice he 
catches, and how he eats them — The character of the Owls — 

The Owl King . 133 



x CONTENTS. 

About Kingfishers. 

The Belted Kingfisher, Ceryle alcyone* 

Kingfishers : Halcyon days — The Kingfisher's nest — The Belted 
Kingfisher — The Spotted Kingfisher — The Great African King- 
fisher — The English Kingfisher — Anecdotes — The Laughing * 
Jackass 153 

Of Certain Sweet Singers. 

The Mocking Bird, Mimus potyglottus. 

Singing Birds : Their inspiring music Singing Automaton . .169 

The Canary ; How it came to Europe — A talking Canary — Breeding 

Canaries 173 

The Sky-Lark: Its flight — Its nest — Its skill in avoiding danger . 175 
The Nightingale: The prince of European singers — Its song — Its 

nest —What Izaak Walton saith 178 

The Mocking Bird : The wonderful variety of its song — Its nest — 

Its courage 182 

About Parrots. 

The Tricolor-crested Cockatoo, Gacalua Leadbeateri. 

Parrots: General description — Parrakeets — The Rose-Hill Parra- 
keet — The Ground Parrakeet — The Ringed Parrakeet — Ma- 
caws — The Red and Blue Macaw — The Carolina Parrot — 
Wilson's pet Parrot — Lories — The Purple-capped Lory — 
True Parrots — The Grey Parrot — Anecdotes — Swindern' s 
Love-Bird — Cockatoos — The Great White Cockatoo — The 
Sulphur-crested Cockatoo — Leadbeater's- Cockatoo — Hunting 
Cockatoos — Parrots undesirable pets * 191 

About Our Dickie, 

The White -throated Sparrow,. Zonotrichia alMcollis. 

Our Dickie: Our Home — The Sparrow's fraud — A nest of young 
birds — The abandoned family — Dickie — He leaves the nest 
— His playfulness — He goes to the city — His fright — His 
medicine — His death — ITis ghost ! — English Sparrows . . 215 



CONTENTS. 



PART III. 



INSECTS. 



About Ants. 



Akts at Work Frontispiece 

Ants: Watching an Ant-hill — The Ant-town — Their cocoon-sacks — 
How colonies are founded — What they eat — Their dairy-farms 
— Their industry — Brown Ants — Carpenters — Kidnapping 
Ants — The Sauba Ant — Foraging Ants — The Tocandeiros — 
A fiery ordeal — The Blind Ant — The Green Ant— The Driver 
Ant — Bridges of Ants — The Agricultural Ant . . . .11 



About Bees. 

Hive Bees Making and Laying Wax. 

Hive Bees : The Bee in the flower — At the hive — Making wax — Lay- 
ing out cells — Feeding the young — The grub becomes a pupa, 
then a bee — The care of young queens — Swarming — How a 
Dew queen is obtained — The massacre of the drones — Keeping 
the hive cool — How the honey is obtained — Bees came to 
America from Europe. 

Carpenter and Mason Bees, and their Cells. 
Solitary Bees: Humble Bees — The mother-bee founds a colony — 
The burrow — How fitted and furnished — Its population — 
Huber's experiment — The Lapidary Bee — The Carder Bee — 
Cuckoo Bees — The Carpenter Bee — The Upholsterer Bee — 
The Mason Bee .......... 41 



Xl1 CONTENTS. 

About Spiders. 

The Great Mygale, My gale cancerides. 

Spiders: A family of workers — Goldsmith's Spider — The structure 
of a Spider — How it spins — The Garden Spider's Web — 
Watching for prey — The Nephila plumipes — The House Spi- 
der — The Trap-door Spider — The Mygale — The Tarantula — 
The Water Spider — How it takes air underwater — The Raft 
Spider — Gossamer — Care for eggs and young — Feeding Spi- 
ders — Bruce's Spider ...... ■. . . 75 

About Dragon-Flies. 

Winged Ant-Lion, Myrmeleo libelluloides. 

Dragon-Flies : Born in the water — The change to a winged insect — 
How the larva moves in the water — Multiple eyes — Scorpion 
flies — Lace-wings — The Ant-lion — Its pit-fall — The May-fly. 

Section of Termites' Nest. 
Termites : Akin to Dragon-Flies — Their buildings — Underground 
roads — Founding a colony — Repairing breaches — The destruc- 
tion they cause — Imported into France 99 



About Wasps. 



A Wasp's Nest, Outside and Inside. 

Wasps : Watching a Wasp's nest — How it is filled with comb — Wasps' 
fondness for flies — An immense nest — The Chartergus Wasp — 
The Myrapetra — The Mud-wasp — A Wasp in trouble — Don 
and the Mud-wasps — The Yellow Wasp 125 

About Locusts. 

The Migratory Locust ; Grasshopper Laying Eggs. 

Locusts : Terribly destructive — Described by the Prophet Joel — 

Locusts used for food — The young Locust — The Katy-did. 
Ehe Hunter Fay 14$ 



CONTENTS. 



About /VLosquitoes. 

Transformations of the Mosquito. 

Mosquitoes: The Mosquito a nuisance — How to protect one's self 
from it — Torture by Mosquitoes — Smudge-fires — Laying eggs 

— The larva — The pupa — The last change — How the Mosquito 
bores. 

Bryant's Mosquito 157 

About Beetles. 

The Scarabeus Beetle. 

Beetles: Mailed warriors — Some injurious, others beneficent — The 
Burying Beetle— The Dor Beetle — The Goliath — The May- 
bug — The Rose-chafer — Stag Beetles — Borers — Curculios — 
The Pine-weevil — The Wheat-weevil — The Pea-bug — The Yel- 
low striped bug — Lady-birds — Tiger Beetles — Water Beetles 
Cucuyos — Cantharides 171 

About Butterflies, 

The Amphrisius Butterfly, Caterpillar, and Chrysaj ;s. 

Buttervlies : Caterpillars not really ugly — They do injury — The 
worm of the carrot-leaf — Changes his skin — His structure — 
How he walks — Eats — Spins — How the chrysalis climbs — 
Cocoons, spun — Woven of hair — Made in the ground — Re- 
paired when broken — The Butterfly appears — Its glowing 
colors — Structure — Feeding — Laying eggs - - General Classifi- 
cation of Lepidoptera. 

3ow to Catch and Preserve Butterflies : The net — The setting box 

— Pins — Permanent cases — How to catch, kill, and set up spe- 
cimens — Care of Cocoons — The Worm case . . . .197 



BEASTS. 



xv 



About Squiri\els. 



Branch — Vertebrate. — Having a back bone. 
Class — Mammalia. — Feeding the young with milk. 
Ordek — Rodentia. — Gnawers. 
Family — Scviuridob. — Squirrel-like. 
Gsnus — Sciurus. — True Squirrels. 




N VERT one loves the squirrel. 
His form is so lithe and grace- 
ful, his coat so beautiful and 
clean, his movements so agile, 
and his whole behavior so 
sprightly, that he is a general 
favorite. In autumn, when the 
^ t3 trees are glowing with brilliant 
colors ; while hickory-nuts, 
beech-nuts, and chestnuts are every where 
dropping among the rustling leaves; then is 
the carnival of squirrels. 



12 ABOUT SQUIRRELS. 

You hear a sharp, shrill chirp; and if quick 
enough, see in the fork, or on the rugged knot 
of some old oak, a bright-eyed little fellow, 
scolding and flirting, evidently quite vexed at 
your intrusion, and afraid that you will see 
where he means to bestow the nuts which fill 
his puffy cheeks. Watch him slyly and quietly, 
my friend, if you wish to observe him. If you 
approach too near, his whisking tail vanishes 
behind the tree, and presently you see him 
skipping from limb to limb, till he is lost among 
the distant tree tops. 

Should you come upon him unawares, you 
would find a sleek, grey-haired little fellow, 
sitting erect upon his hinder feet, with his tail 
turned up against his back like a plume, while 
he is gnawing a hole into a nut which he holds 
in his fore paws. There, it is done, and the 
empty shell rattles on the ground. He looks 
around — sees you, chirps, whisks his tail, and — 
good-by. 

The boys in old Greece, who wandered in the 
vale of Tempe, and gathered nuts on the rugged 



THEIR NAMES. 1 3 

sides of high Olympus, knew this little fellow's 
great-grandfather, and called him Sciurus, or 
Shadow-tail. The Indian boys hunted him by 
the great lakes and the rushing streams of 
the New World, and they called him Adji- 
daumo, or Tail-in-air. From the old Greek 
name has descended, through various languages, 
our word, squirrel. 

The time when this family settled in Ameri- 
ca is not very accurately known, but it is gen- 
erally admitted that the squirrels came before 
white men. They have separated into various 
clans, wearing garments of different colors, and 
have even allowed bitter feuds to spring up 
among them. They all have, however, long, 
broad, plumed tails; sharp, chisel-shaped front 
teeth, two in each jaw; and long toes, four on 
the fore-feet, and five on the hinder ones, armed 
with strong, sharp claws to assist in climbing. 
There are about fifty American species, twelve 
of which are found in the United States. 

The common Red Squirrel, or Chickaree, 
Sciurus Hudsonius, is seven or eight inches lon^ 



14 ABOUT SQUIRRELS. 

to the tail, which is about six inches. The 
color of the head, back, legs, and tail, is red- 
dish brown; the breast and belly are white; 
the eyes are large, dark and lively; the legs, 
short and strong. On the ground the motion is 
a succession of leaps, the tail extended and wav- 
ing. When it eats, or dresses itself, sitting 
erect like the hare or rabbit, it uses its fore- 
paws as hands. It lives upon nuts, acorns, the 
bark of young trees, leaf-buds, and tender 
shoots, and does not object to the farmer's corn, 
if grown in the outside rows. In autumn it 
providently hoards away in the ground, and in 
holes of trees near its own nest, stores of food 
on which it may subsist when fruit and foliage 
are gone. 

The squirrel makes its nest very skillfully of 
twigs, dry leaves, and moss, curiously interwo- 
ven, and hides it in the hollow of a decayed 
tree, or in the fork between the branches* In 
the latter case it closes up the sides and top, ex- 
cept a small opening to go in and out at. 
It defends this door from the weather by a kind 



THE GRA T SQ UIRREL 1 5 

of canopy or shed, so constructed that no water 
can come in, even in the most driving storm. 
In this retreat the little creature conceals its 
young, and shelters itself from summer rains 
and winter's cold. 

The squirrel is extremely vigilant. If the tree 
in which it lives, is but touched at the bottom, 
it instantly takes the alarm, quits its nest, leaps 
to another and another tree, and so travels on 
until it finds a place of safety. After an absence 
of several hours it returns with great caution, 
and by routes which no other quadruped could 
traverse. 

The Red Squirrel is, perhaps, more widely 
known in both hemispheres, than any other. 
In the Northern and Middle States of our own 
country the Gray Squirrel, S. Carolinensis, is 
quite as numerous, and is much more admired, 
on account of his larger size, his more beautiful 
fur, and his preeminence in all those engaging 
qualities which make his family so agreeable. 
His color is of every shade, from a fine blue- 
ish grey to jet black. His plume, which is 



1 6 ABOUT SQ UIRRELS. 

very large and bushy, is often edged with white. 

In some places these squirrels are so numer- 
ous as to become pests, not remaining within 
their forest home, but ravaging the fields and 
stacks of grain. In a corn-field they are pe- 
culiarly provoking, for they do not eat the 
whole kernel of the grain, but bite out the soft 
germinating part, which the farmers call the 
chit, and spoil the rest. But when harvest is 
over, and the squirrels have grown fat with 
their plunder, thousands are killed with traps 
and guns. Their flesh is very good eating, and 
their fur is much used for capes and muffs. 
These squirrels are often tamed, and their play- 
ful and mischievous habits afford much amuse- 
ment. 

The Long-eared Squirrel, S. Jfacrotis, lives 
in Borneo. Its name comes from tufts of 
glossy, black, stiff hairs about two inches long, 
which decorate the tips of its ears. Its body is 
a foot long, and its tail as much more. Its 
r is rich chestnut brown above, fading into 
lighter brown beneath. 



THE GROUND SQUIRREL. 1 7 

Genus — Tamias, or Striped Squirrels. 

The Chipping, Striped, or Ground Squirrel, 
or Chipmunk, Tamkis Striatus, is a lively, famil- 
iar animal, often seen dodging about fences, 
walls, and ttbe roots of tre&s. It is five or six 
inches long to the tail, which is about four 
inches. Its general color above is yellowish 
grey and brown, finely grizzled, striped on the 
back and sides with five longitudinal bands. 
It does not climb unless surprised, but makes 
its hole near the roots of a stump or tree, into 
which it carries its stores for winter, and where 
it stays, without once coming out, while the cold 
weather lasts. 

Genus — Spennophilus, Ground Squirrels and Gophers. 

These are all burrowing animals, and are 
specially numerous in the West, whose broad 
prairies afford no forest shelter for their 
tree-loving cousins. With great industry and 
rapidity, they dig long galleries under ground, 
throwing out mounds of earth here and there as 
large as a bushel basket. So thoroughly have 



i8 



ABOUT SQUIRRELS. 



these little creatures dug over the sandy prairirs 
of Wisconsin, that the hillocks are as numerous, 
though not as regular, as in a corn-field. 

The Striped Gopher or Leopard Spermophile, 
S. tri-decern-lineatus, is about as large as the Red 
Squirrel, with a tail about half the length of the 
body. The color is dark brown above, banded 
with alternate light stripes and rows of light 
spots, there being six stripes, and five rows of 
spots. It vanishes into its burrow with a chirp 
whenever alarmed. 

Genus — Pteromys, Flying Squirrels. 

The common Flying Squirrel, P. volucetta, is 
about five inches long to the tail, which is but 
little less. This little animal has a fold of skin, 
covered, like the rest of his body, with soft silky 
fur, which extends along his sides from his fore- 
teet to his hind-feet. When he leaps, throwing 
his feet out, this skiu is stretched between them, 
and spreads like a sail on either side. In this 
way his buoyancy is much increased, and his 
whole body resembles a skin floating in the air. 



THE FLYING SQUIRREL. 1 9 

He skims along like a bird on even wing, not 
beating the air, but gradually descending, until 
lie alights at a place somewhat lower than that 
from which he sprang, and sometimes one hun- 
dred and fifty feet distant. The Flying Squir- 
rel feeds chiefly upon the twigs of trees, and the 
seeds found in the cones of pine trees. 

The following pleasant description of the do- 
mestic life of these animals is given by the 
naturalist Webber: 

" Then, when I went out by myself into the 
deep woods, I sat down on the moss at the root 
of an old tree to watch for the squirrel. When 
every thing was still again, I would see him 
after a while poking his head out of the hole, 
snuff! snuff! Then out his head would pop 
to rest his chin upon his paws, and he would 
look all around, above and below, very cun- 
ningly, to see if all was right. Then out like a 
thought he would glide, and I could see his 
lovely brush quickly curled and spread so 
grandly above his head, as he sat upon a limb, 
still for a moment. Lo ! there is another snuff- 



20 ABOUT SQUIRRELS. 

ing nose, and then great shining eyes filling 
the round black knot-hole, and out another pops, 
and another and another. Such whisking of 
tails, darting along limbs, and bounding from 
swinging twig to rustling tree-top, until they all 
meet! 

"Now the frolic begins in earnest, and they 
dart round and round the trunks, rattling the 
bark down as they chase each other. Their 
tails are spread now as wide as they can, as if 
they were scared; and that lady squirrel he 
makes love to, you may be sure, for now he has 
chased her out to the very end of a great high 
limb; and, hard pushed, here she comes right 
off into the air! down almost into my face — 
the white of her arms underneath spread wide 
like her stiffened tail — into the leaves head 
foremost, and then up and away, patter ! patter ! 
patter ! Here he comes, too, sailing down after 
her, plump ! and rattles off along the old logs 
and swinging vines in hot chase. 

" So would they all frolic, chasing one anoth- 
er, and one of them would see me, and stop, 



SQUIRREL JOURNEYS. 21 

and stamp his tiny feet, and bark at me, jerking 
his tail in comic wrath." 

In the North of Europe, the squirrels, like 
the birds, are said to migrate yearly, to find a 
warmer climate. In their journeys they march 
by thousands, moving straight on, over rocks, 
through forests, not stopping even for rivers and 
lakes. Indeed, were not the wonderful tales of 
their journeys, proved by so high authority as 
Linnaeus, they could hardly be believed. Ac- 
cording to that naturalist, when the army of 
squirrels comes to the edge of a stream or lake, 
they wait for a clear sky and a fair wind, and 
when all is ready, each one on his chosen bit of 
bark pushes out into the water. In this orderly 
manner, with all tails hoisted, the little fleets 
sometimes cross sheets of water several miles in 
width. But often they meet the fate of others 
" who go down to the sea in ships." The wind 
becomes too strong, or the waves, which were 
peaceful near the shore, are too rough for barks 
without keel or ballast, and the whole navy 
suffers shipwreck. The roving Laplander gath* 



22 ABOUT SQUIRRELS. 

ers the bodies as the waves cast them ashore, 
and makes both flesh and skins useful. 

The front or cutting teeth, which the squirrel 
has in common with the other members of the 
order Hodentia, or Gnawers, are worthy of notice, 
for they show, as indeed does every thing in 
nature, the care with which the Creator adapted 
his creatures to their peculiar mode of life. 
The rodents, including squirrels, rats, mice, 
beavers, and rabbits, have to bite through 
tough, hard substances, like the shells of nuts 
or the wood of trees, and require sharp, chisel- 
like teeth, which, at the same time, must be 
very firm and strong. 

The teeth of men and most quadrupeds, are 
formed of hard ivory, covered with a harder 
coating of enamel. If they wear away by long 
use, all parts wear alike, leaving a flat grinding 
surface, and they do not grow. The front or 
cutting teeth of the rodents are covered only in 
front with enamel; this wears more slowly 
than the ivory, and always presents a sharp, cut- 
ting edge. The severe use to which the animal 



THEIR TEETH. 23 

puts his teeth, wears out even this sharp ridge 
of enamel, and, therefore, these teeth are made 
to grow constantly. 

The molar, or grinding teeth of some of the 
rodents, as of the rat and the beaver, are formed 
of alternate ridges of ivory and enamel, that 
they may wear into rasp-like ridges, and thus 
grind the hard substances which they eat. The 
kernels of nuts which the squirrels eat are not 
hard, so that, while their front teeth will gnaw 
through a nut shell, their grinders are made 
like those of other quadrupeds. 

In the public squares of New Haven and 
Philadelphia, these beautiful creatures, pro- 
tected from dogs, and respected by boys, have 
become very tame. On a bright day in autumn, 
scores of waving plumes may be seen among the 
leaves as the squirrels chase each other in the 
grass, or lay up stores for the winter. Many 
bits of food are given by passing school-boys to 
the timorous fellows, that are half afraid, but 
still muster courage to seize the morsel offered 
them. Then they retreat a little way, and 



2\ ABOUT SQUIRRELS 

munch their prize, saying " Thank you " with 
bright eyes, the while. 

One quiet afternoon, while musing in one of 
the squares, I observed a grey squirrel with a 
nut in his cheek, evidently looking for a hiding 
place. Presently he stopped, pushed away the 
grass and began to dig with all his might. In 
a moment he had a hole two or three inches 
deep, into which he vigorously crammed the 
nut. "When he was satisfied that it was right, 
he put back the earth, patted it down carefully, 
scratched the grass and leaves over the spot, 
and whisked away, with a sly wink at me, which 
said "Find it if you can." And sure enough, 
when I tried to find the spot, from which his 
sprightly motion had drawn my eye, I tried in 
vain. He had covered his work so skillfully 
that I could not find it, though I had watched 
every motion. 

As I walked away I asked myself this ques- 
tion :' Is man's reason really more valuable 
than the brute's instinct, if the man's reason 
only teaches him to lay up for old age, while 



SQUIRREL-LESSONS. 25 

the brute knows when to lay by store for 
winter? Indeed the brute would seem to be 
most sagacious, for the waning years of others 
would constantly warn the man of his coming 
fortune, while the squirrel only saw the bright 
sun and falling leaves, and heard the dry leaves 
rustle in the whistling wind. Unless man learns 
to lay up treasure beyond the storehouses of 
this life, how is he better than the beasts that 
perish ? 

Again, I thought, would that every child, 
every man and woman, would imitate the earn- 
estness of the squirrel. His work was before 
him and it must be done. He rested not until 
it was done. He did not dig a moment and 
then lie down to dally with the green grass or 
the withered leaves, he looked neither to right 
nor left, but wrought straight on till his work 
was finished; finished with such care, too, and 
so completely, that no broken earth, no twisted 
blade of grass betrayed the spot. ye, who 
begin and leave unfinished, who are drawn from 



26 ABOUT SQUIRRELS. 

well-planned schemes, by fresher novelties, ever 
changing, learn from my squirrel ! 

Still another lesson did this bright eyed 
monitor teach. The nut he buried he might 
never uncover. He, perhaps, forgot where he 
buried it; perhaps he wandered far away; per- 
haps he died; but even then the seed would 
show itself, springing into life, the germ of 
some tall tree, and so that burial be not in vain. 
God, in his providence, has so arranged that 
even the squirrels plant his forests, while con- 
cealing for themselves. Shall he not bless that 
which is sown, and watered, and nourished, 
with earnest hope and faith, as well as this 
chance seeding? 




B E A V E R S AT WOR K. Castor Canadensis. 



About Beavers. 



Vertebrata. Mammalia. 
Order — Rodentia. — Gnawers. 
Family — Sduridce. — Squirrel-like. 
Genus — Castor — The Beaver. 




>ORK like a beaver! How is 

that? Don't you know? It 

is to be up early and late; to 

dig, and gnaw, and scrub, and 

delve. To stop at nothing. 

If a great tree is in the way, 

bite it off, chip by chip. If 

the rock won't move, build 

round it, work it in, and make 

its firmness the strength of the wall. If the 

water rises, build higher. If it breaks through, 

C 



3° ABOUT BEAVERS. 

fill up the hole. Where the work is weak, 
make it stronger. If the winter's cold freezes 
it, so much the better, the wolverines can't get 
through. If the warm rains thaw it again, no 
matter, it is a good time to make repairs. 
That's how it is to work like a beaver. 

Who is this worker? Where does he live, 
and what does he do ? 

He is second cousin to the squirrels, but is 
much larger. He wears a rich robe, usually 
chestnut color, sometimes black, made of 
smooth, glossy hair, and lined with the finest, 
warmest, ash-colored fur. He is about three 
feet long, and carries a broad scaly tail, which 
adds another foot. This tail is quite a funny 
fixture, of which we will say more by and by. 
The hind-feet are webbed, and serve to paddle 
it through the water quite swiftly. 

The cutting teeth, which have the same pecu- 
liar shape as those of the squirrel, are very large, 
sharp, and strong. With them he can gnaw 
down large trees, or pare an apple as smoothly 
as if done with a knife. Before the Indians 



THEIR HOMES. 3 * 

obtained iron tools from white men, they used 
these teeth for chisels, and found them hard 
enough to cut bone, and to fashion their horn- 
tipped spear-heads. 

The beaver is most abundant in the unsettled 
parts of North America, — the western territo- 
ries, and Canada. He makes his home in the 
water, in some stream or lake. He prefers run- 
ning water, because the stream floats to his 
house the wood that he uses, and affords him a 
better way of escape when attacked. He always 
selects a place where the water is so deep that 
it will not freeze to the bottom in winter. If 
the stream is small, and likely to become dry, 
either from summer's drought or winter's frost, 
he provides against that danger by building a 
dam, and filling a pond for himself. 

The shape of the dam differs with the nature 
of the stream. If the current is slow, the dam 
is made straight across ; if swift and strong, the 
dam is curved against the stream; if the 
deep, swift water should be near one side, the 



3 * ABO UT BE A VERS. 

Jam will be curved there, and straight across 
the shallow part, where the pressure is light. 

The work is built of drift-wood, and of logs 
of green willow, poplar, birch, and soft maple, 
mixed with mud and stones. The willow and 
poplar trees often take root and grow, some- 
times forming a regularly planted hedge, so 
tall that birds build in the branches. Where 
the beavers have been long undisturbed, the 
dam, by constant repair, becomes a solid bank, 
able to withstand any force of water and ice. 

A beaver dam at Shawano, Wisconsin, is from 
eight to ten feet high, and twelve or fifteen rods 
long. It is wide enough at the top to drive a 
team upon, and a substantial grist and saw- 
mill is carried by the abundant supply of water 
which it affords. It is just as the beavers made 
it, with only a sluice added to carry the water 
to the wheels. 

The beavers cut down large trees on the bank 
of the stream, always taking care to make them 
fall into the water. Then they gnaw the limbs 
off, and cut the trunk in pieces, just as a wood- 



THE BEAVER'S TAIL. 33 

chopper would trim and chop up a tree. The 
large logs from the body and limbs are stripped 
of their bark, tumbled into the water, and float- 
ed to the place where the dam is to be made, or 
the houses are to be built. There they are 
sunk, and held down by stones, mud, and other 
logs. The bark is saved for winter food. 

The stones and earth are taken from the 
bank or the bottom of the stream, and carried 
in their fore-paws, against their throats. The 
wood they drag with their teeth. All the work 
is done by night, and the earth which they 
move in a single night, amounts to many thous- 
ands of their little handfuls. 

i|3ome have held mistaken notions about the 
beaver's tail. It has been said that the crea- 
ture carries mud on it, and that he uses it as a 
kind of trowel in plastering his house. Some 
have said that when the beaver has laid down 
his pawsful of mud, he turns round and gives 
it a slap with his tail to smooth it, and keep it 
in place. This mistake has probably arisen 
from a peculiar slap which he does give, when 



34 ABOUT BEAVERS. 

he plunges into the water, or when he is alarm- 
ed. This motion does not seem to have any 
real purpose, but to be a kind of habit, which 
he does not forget even when he becomes tame. 

The beaver cuts most of his wood in the, 
summer, when the sap is in, and he takes care 
to choose trees which he can float down stream 
to his work. He does not use pines, or other 
pitchy trees. He lays up in autumn a supply 
for winter, by pulling piles of boughs into the 
water near his home, and loading them down 
with stones. When he is hungry he, goes to his 
pantry, the brush-pile, helps himself to a stick, 
eats off the twigs, the small branches, and the 
bark, and then puts the bone away in some place 
on the dam, or lets it float down stream. 

The beaver houses are built in the same way 
as their dams. They are usually circular, and 
about seven feet in diameter by three feet high, 
inside, and fifteen to twenty feet in diameter, 
and seven or eight feet high, outside. Such a 
house will shelter four old beavers, and six or 
eight young ones, giving them a warm, dry 



BEAVER HOUSES. 35 

place to eat and sleep in. The shape is like 
an oven, or an Esquimaux snow-house. The 
entrance is from the water, by a passage which 
opens near the middle of the floor ; and the 
beavers' nests are arranged, each by itself, 
against the wall. 

Some houses are still larger, and appear to 
have several rooms, separated by partitions ; but 
these apartments do not communicate with each 
other, and are really nothing more than several 
distinct houses, joined together as in a block. A 
ditch is dug about the house, deep enough to 
give a passage under the ice, and opening into 
the deep water in the pond. This makes a 
way of escape if the tenants are alarmed, and 
prevents other animals from burrowing into 
their castle. 

In the fall, they take great pains to repair their 
houses with a fresh layer of mud and stones. 
This they do as late as they can, even after it 
has begun to freeze. This covering of earth 
freezes very hard, and makes a secure armor 
against their enemy, the wolverine. In fact, 



$6 ABOUT BEA VERS. 

their houses are so nearly iron-clad as to stand 
severe battering with a pick. The hunters 
learn to observe the way in which these repairs 
are done ; if the cover is made very thick, and 
is put on early, it is thought to foretell a long 
and severe winter. 

The beaver is hunted chiefly for his skin. 
The hairs upon the skin are of two kinds. One 
portion is rather long, straight, and coarse, and 
by its overlapping, serves to shed water, like 
thatch on a roof. Pushing aside this outside 
coat, we find a beautiful fur at the bottom, whose 
fine, delicate fibres, are soft and wavy. This fur 
was formerly in great demand for making hats. 
Each fibre is edged with little hooks, too small 
to be seen unless highly magnified. They all 
bend one way, and when a mass of them is 
rubbed, these fibres become matted together, 
twining and locking themselves into a dense, 
tight fabric, in which they are held as firmly as 
in the skin itself. This fabric is called felt. 
Wool, and the fur of many small animals, have 
this same quality. 



ROASTED BEAVER. 37 

The long hairs are useless, and the furriers 
pluck them off, whether the skins are to be 
used as furs, or the fibres are to be taken off* to 
make felt. 

Within the last twenty-five years these animals 
have become very scarce, so that the fur is too 
costly to be made into hats, while the invention 
of a kind of silk plush has supplied its place 
more cheaply. Some idea of the great numbers 
which were once taken, may be had from the 
fact that in one year more than one hundred 
and twenty -five thousand skins were sent from 
Quebec to England. 

The Indians prize the flesh very highly ; 
especially when roasted whole in the skin after 
the fur has been singed off'. The fur-traders do 
all they can to stop the waste of fur by this 
practice ; but they can not prevent one or two 
feasts in each year, in an Indian village, where 
roasted beaver is the chief luxury. It resembles 
pork in flavor, but is too rank to be endured by 
civilized stomachs. The Indian hunters also 
wear pouches made of a whole beaver's or otter's 



38 ABOUT BEAVERS. 

skin, which they tie about their waists. In thero 
they keep their tobacco, powder, and whatever 
else they wish to secure from moisture. 

The beavers are taken chiefly in the fall, when 
the fur is in the best order. Then, the old coat 
has been shed, and a new one has come out, 
sleek, glossy, and of good color. They are 
caught in traps, baited with a substance which 
attracts them by its peculiar odor. The young 
beavers are easily taken; but the old ones 
acquire great cunning, and tax the trapper's 
utmost skill. In winter, the hunters sometimes 
stop up all the outlets of the beaver's house, and 
then break in the roof with axes, and capture 
the entire family. Sometimes, when the frost 
has been very severe, large holes are cut in the 
ice. The creatures come to the holes for fresh 
air, and are killed, or caught in stout nets. 

If captured, they are easily tamed. When the 
building season comes, the captive will industri- 
ously build a dam across one corner of the room 
with boots, brushes, firewood, books, and any 
furniture it can move. When he has piled up 



LAZY BEAVERS. 39 

all the material he can procure, he sits in the 
center, quite satisfied with the fine work he has 
made to dam up the river, and patiently waiting 
for the water to come and fill up his pond. 

This fact sets aside all the claims that have 
been made that the beaver is guided by reason. 
He is only driven by a blind instinct, impressed 
upon his nature, which he must follow whether 
he will or not. If a young beaver which had 
never seen a beaver-dam or house, were set free 
in a suitable place, he would probably go to 
work in the same way, and make just as skillful 
plans, as if he had the example of many gene- 
rations of his forefathers before him. There are, 
to be sure, lazy beavers, who wont work. They 
are driven out of beaver society, and go away by 
themselves and burrow holes in the banks, living 
as solitary and lonely outcasts. 

The species described is the American beaver, 
C. Canadensis. Another species, C. fiber, is found 
in Europe and Asia, along the Euphrates, the 
Danube, and the Rhone. Some fossils found in 
Ohio indicate an animal of this family six times 
as large as our living species. 




Q 
i— i 

a- 

w 



About Deei^ 



YETEBRATA — MAMMALIA. 

Order — RuminanUa. — Cud-chewers. 
Family— CervidoB. —Deer-like. 
Genus— Cervus. — The Stag. 




,© ANY species of deer are known, 
and their representatives are 
found in almost every climate. 
They are not numerous in very 
warm countries, but abound in 
temperate regions, while some 
species dwell where chill win- 
ter reigns during most of the 
year. In size, they vary from 
the stately elk, which is larger than the horse, 
to the sprightly roe-buck, which is less than the 
goat 



44 ABOUT DEER. 

All the members of this family wear solid 
horns. These are formed entirely of bony 
matter, and are not even covered with the horny 
substance which forms the hoofs and horns of 
the ox or the sheep. In fact, though the largest 
and finest head-gear worn by any animals, they 
are not true horns, but bones. Sometimes these 
bony horns spread into broad palms, with sharp 
snags along their outer edges. Sometimes they 
divide into branches, of which some project over 
the forehead, while others rear upward in the 
air, or curve gracefully backward. Such a load, 
borne upon the head, would seem to be incon- ' 
venient, from both its size and its weight. It 
adds to the stately air of the creature. 

All the male deer have horns, but shed them 
every year and renew them again. When the 
time comes for the horns to drop — which varies 
with different species, but is usually between 
November and March — they loosen at the base, 
first at the outside, and then gradually inward, 
until they fall. The spot on the forehead bleeds 
a little, but in twenty-four hours is covered with 



HOW THEIR HORNS GROW. 45 

a thin, transparent film. After a short time the 
skin begins to swell into a soft tumor, like a 
ball, full of blood, and covered with a velvety 
substance, having nearly the same color as 
the creature's hair. 

This tumor grows every day at the end, like 
a sprout from a tree, and shoots out branches 
called antlers. The horn sometimes grows an 
inch and a half in a day; so that the whole is 
finished in a few days. The course of the blood 
vessels is marked by long, deep furrows, which 
always remain. While the horns, or, as the 
huntsmen say, the attire, is growing, the velvet 
is very tender, and the animal hides in thickets, 
coming out only at night, for food. When the 
horn has completed its growth, the blood-vessels 
are shut off, and the velvet coating dries up. 
The stag peels it off by rubbing his head against 
a tree, and is himself again. 

Each new horn has one more snag than the 
horn which fell, so that the age of the animal 
may be readily learned. The first horn comes 
when the deer is a vear old, and an additional 



46 ABOUT DEER. 

snag comes every year : if he has five prongs, he 
is six years old. In England, a deer is said to 
be of the first head and worthy of the chase, 
only when there are five branches upon his 
horns ; when he is a stag of ten, he is a noble 
animal. 

Most varieties of the deer are fleet and 
watchful; when hunted, they run with great 
speed, and choose their way with much sagacity ; 
when hard pushed they are bold and coura- 
geous ; when slain, their skins are valuable and 
their flesh is delicious. For all these reasons 
they are hunted with much zest, as well by the 
lordly barons of Europe, as by the tawny savages 
of the American wilderness. Some are easily 
tamed, and become quite domestic ; but as a 
family, they fade away before the progress of 
cultivation. Wild deer love the margin of the 
forest — going out for food, and returning for 
shelter and concealment. All take to water 
readily, and swim with ease. 

No variety of deer has more often been men- 
tioned by traveler, story-teller, or poet, than the 



THE CHASE. 47 

stag, or red deer, of England, Cervus fflaphns. 
It was the favorite game in those early days, 
when the only pursuits thought fit for men of 
gentle breeding were war or the chas^. 

The forest laws of the old Norman kings 
made the punishment for killing a deer, except 
in the chase, as great as for killing a man. 
Large tracts of land were stripped of people ; 
villages, and even churches were destroyed, to 
make room for herds of deer, to provide for this 
cruel sport. 

We can imagine the stag in the quiet wood, 
cropping the dewy leaves, or drinking the clear 
stream, as the rising sun reddens the tree-tops. 
At early dawn the hunters mounted their steeds, 
and now, suddenly, 

" The deep-mouthed bloodhound's heavy bay 
Resounding up the rocky way, 
And, faint, from further distance borne, 
The echo of the hoof and horn " 

startle the timid creature from his fancied secu* 
rity. When first driven from his cover, the 
stag flies with the swiftness of the wind, leaving 



48 ABOUT DEER. 

his pursuers far behind, until he again reaches 
some place which seems safe. Here he stops, 
looks about, and is less afraid. But the hounds 
follow, keeping the fresh track by their keen 
scent. 

Again he hears them, and again he flies. He 
halts a second time, and runs again when the 
dogs come up; but his first race has exhausted 
him, and he can not fly as at first. He now 
seeks to do by artifice what he failed to do by 
speed. He rushes to the herd, and tries to sub- 
stitute some other deer in his place, to take the 
track he has made. He runs back over his own 
course to deceive the dogs, and crosses some 
hard-beaten soil, where the scent will be less 
distinct. The easy, bounding pace which he 
had at first, has become stiff* and heavy ; his 
mouth is parched, his tongue hangs out, and 
some say 

" The big round tears 
Do course each other down his innocent nose 
In piteous chase." 

His last refuge is the water. He plunges into 



BROUGHT TO BAY. 49 

whatever lake or river he finds, and swims up 
the current, taking care not to touch any bush 
on the bank, lest he may leave a scent for the 
hounds. He even hides himself under water, 
exposing nothing but the tip of his nose. 

Having exhausted every resource, he gathers 
up his remaining strength, that he may boldly 
face the enemies he can not escape. He defends 
himself with hoof and horn against dogs and 
men ; but when the pack comes up, he is sur- 
rounded and overcome, and the winding bugle 
proclaims that the chase is ended. 

The stag is about three and one-half feet high 
at the shoulder ; his color is reddish brown 
above, and whitish beneath, with some black 
about the face, and a black stripe down the neck 
and between the shoulders. The greatest known 
weight of a dressed stag, is three hundred and 
eighteen pounds. He has a fine eye, an acute 
smell, and a good ear. When listening, he 
raises his head and erects his ears. Though a 
simple animal, he is curious and crafty. When 
called to from a distance, he stops short and 



50 ABOUT DEER, 

looks at horses and men, and if the men have no 
arms, he shows no signs of fear. 

In the parks of England, the stag has gener- 
ally given place to the fallow deer, C. Dama. 
This animal is much like the stag, but is smaller, 
feebler, and more gentle. Its color is a brownish 
bay, beautifully spotted. Its horns are not as 
round as those of the stag, and their broad 
extremities are spread out like palms. Its flesh 
is highly esteemed, as more delicate and juicy 
than that of either of the other kinds of deer. 
In strength and cunning it is far inferior to the 
stag ; and when hunted, does not afford so long 
or so varied a chase. 

The roe-buck, C. Capreolus, the smallest of the 
European deer, stands about two and a half feet 
high at the shoulders, and weighs about sixty 
pounds. Its color is reddish brown on the back, 
yellowish beneath, with a white disc about the 
tail. The horns are about nine inches long, 
round, and divided into three branches. Its 
motions are elegant and easy. Few sights are 
liner than a roe-buck, bounding among the 



AMERICAN ELK. 5 I 

bushes, skipping among the hills. These deer 
love the shady thickets and the rising slope. 
They do not herd together, but live in families. 
The young are driven out when of the proper 
age, but the parents never forsake each other. 
The roe-buck can not be thoroughly tamed; and 
as it is difficult to confine it, because of the 
height to which it can jump, it is usually suffered 
to roam at large. It is very cunning, and when 
hunted sometimes escapes the dogs by its craft. 
It makes a few very long leaps, waits until the 
dogs have passed, and then returns on its own 
track. 

The wapiti, or American elk, C. Canadensis, 
is very much like the English stag, and was 
called the stag by the early settlers, who ac- 
counted for its larger size by the greater range 
in the woods and prairies of the new world. It 
is a foot higher than the stag, and its markings 
and antlers are quite different/ This deer once 
roamed over all the northern portion of the 
United States. The rifle and the plow have 
driven him away, and he is only occasionally 



5^ ABOUT DEER. 

found in a few wild tracts of the Atlantic States, 
and on the prairies west of the Mississippi. 

About the upper Missouri, the Indians gather 
the horns and pile them in great heaps, where 
they can be seen at a long distance. One of the 
mounds is said to have been twenty feet in 
circuit, and fifteen feet high. The horns are 
very large, measuring six feet from tip to tip. 
One might suppose that such head-gear would 
hinder his running through thickets and forests; 
but he knows how to turn them to account, by 
laying them upon his back, and so protecting 
himself from the branches through which he 
forces his way. 

His skin is very useful. The hunters are said 
to have a way of dressing it, so that it does not 
become stiff and harsh when it has been wet 
and dried again. This makes it very service- 
able for their hunting-dresses, which are usually 
made of this kind of leather. 

The wapiti has less cunning than some of the 
weaker kinds of deer, but makes up for this 
want by strength and courage. If wounded, he 



ADVENTURE WITH AN ELK. 53 

attacks his enemy boldly. A French writer, 
who had been hunting in the West, gives an 
interesting account of an adventure with an elk. 
He and his companions had crept near the herd, 
and had each chosen their mark: 

" We drew up our rifles slowly, and both 
shots went oft* at once. The smoke hung heav- 
ily for a second or two ; when it cleared away, 
we espied one of the elk lying down. The 
next instant, down rolled the other. On com- 
ing near my elk, he tried to rise, but rolled back 
again. I looked towards the other; when, what 
was my surprise at seeing a regular combat 
between my friend and his wounded elk, now 
a very dangerous enemy. Springing on her 
haunches, she was striking furiously with her 
fore-feet. One hoof missed him, but the other 
fell on his rifle, which he held up for safety ; 
and, smashing both his ramrod and his loading- 
stick, beat him down upon his knees. Rising a 
second time, she was just read} 7 to repeat her 
blow, when my ball caught her in the side of the 
head, behind the eye; and, with a splendid 



54 ABOUT DEER 

bound, she fell lifeless on the broad of her back. 
I had made a quick, and necessarily a rather 
dangerous shot; but I was in luck that day. So 
was my friend, with a beast on one side, and a 
ball on the other." 

The common or Virginia deer, C. Virgin- 
ianus, has been called the fallow deer of Amer- 
ica. It is very beautiful and graceful. It is 
abundant in all thinly-settled parts, throughout 
the Northern and Middle States. Its flesh is 
one of the luxuries in winter. Its skin is soft 
and flexible, and when dressed, is the buck-skin 
from which gloves and mittens are made. Its 
weight is about two hundred pounds. Its color 
is light fawn in summer, and reddish grey in 
winter; the under. part of the throat and the tail 
are always white. It is very timid. "When alarm- 
ed it bounds over the bushes with incredible 
speed; in a moment, nothing will be seen but 
the twinkling of its white tail — which the hunt- 
ers call its flag — rising and falling, farther aud 
farther away, till it vanishes in the distance. 



NIGHT HUNTING. 5 5 

This deer is often hunted by night, while feed 
ing in the water upon the leaves of the water 
lily and of other aquatic plants. The hunters 
make beforehand a rude lantern, by peeling a 
circle of bark from a young tree, and making a 
hole in one side of this rough cylinder. A large 
candle of deer's tallow throws a strong beam of 
light through this hole. One man fixes this 
lantern upon his head, like a cap, and lies down 
in the bow of the boat, while another at the 
stern silently paddles the canoe along the 
smooth stream. 

On they go, still as the night around them, 
till some unlucky deer is heard splashing in the 
water, and munching the lily-pads. At once 
the canoe turns towards him, and the foolish 
creature looks up to see the strange light that 
comes down upon him. It only grows brighter 
and brighter, swerving neither to right or left, 
and dazzles his eyes, accustomed to the dark- 
ness. So the deer waits, in silent amazement, 
until he feels the sting of a bullet, shot by the 
hunter in the bow. 



56 ABOUT DEER. 

The utmost caution and skill are necessary in 
this kind of hunting, for the least noise — the 
splash of a paddle, or even the click of a lock — 
is enough to break the spell which the light has 
thrown upon the deer, and send him bounding 
away into the night. If the first shot misses, he 
does riot wait for another. Many an unlucky 
hunter has spoiled a night's work by paddling 
his canoe into the midst of a flock of ducks. 
"With loud cries and much splashing of their 
wings, away they flew T , scaring the deer for miles 
by their noisj 7 clatter in the stillness of the night. 

Genus — Alces. The Elk. 

The largest of the deer family is the elk, or 
moose — Alces Americanus. He is quite as large 
as a horse, and stands very high. , His antlers 
are palmated, or flattened. They have meas- 
ured six feet from tip to tip, the breadth of the 
palms being twelve inches, and the weight sev- 
enty pounds. To carry this heavy burden, he has 
a short, thick neck, which spoils, in a measure, the 
elegant proportions so much admired in other 



THE MOOSE. 57 

deer; and he attracts attention more on account 
of his size than for any beauty or grace. . His 
head is about two feet long, narrow and clumsy; 
his eye is small and sunken ; his long ears are 
tufted with hair; his neck has a heavy mane; 
and his throat is covered w T ith long, coarse hair. 
His body is round, short, and compact; his 
legs, though long, are remarkably clean and 
firm. His general color is grayish brown. In 
summer, his hair is short and glossy; in winter, 
it becomes long and coarse, while more warmth 
is secured by an under-garment of short, fine 
wool. 

Moose are seldom seen farther south than 
the northern parts of New England and New 
York. In summer, they live near the streams 
and lakes, where they feed upon the water- 
plants, or browse on the bushes which grow 
along the banks. In winter, they go to the dry 
mountain ridges, and make a haunt, or "yard," 
on a slope facing the south. They find some 
place where there are plenty of maples, or other 
hard wood trees, and feed upon the twigs or *he 



5§ ABOUT DEER. 

tender bark. They pull down, with their long 
uppei* lips, the branches which they can reach, 
and hold them between their fore legs until the 
twigs are eaten off. 

The season for hunting this animal, is in 
March or September. It is useless to follow 
him when the snow is fresh and soft, for, with 
his long legs and great strength, he can wade 
easily. When the warm sun in spring melts 
the surface of the snow, which the cool nights 
freeze again into a thin crust, the sharp snow-ice 
breaks his legs, or at least so disables them that 
he can not run. 

The Indians take him with snares. When 
they find the path which he is accustomed to 
follow, they bend a stout sapling over the track, 
and so fasten it that a slight pull will set it free. 
A strong noose is fastened to this trap, and if 
the head or horns of a moose is caught, he is 
lifted into the air and killed. 

The movements of this creature are clumsy. 
The hind-legs are shorter than the fore-legs, and 
he shuffles along, spreading his hind feet to 



THE REINDEER. 59 

avoid treading on his fore-heel. He does not 
gallop or leap, but trots along; and when he 
comes to a fallen tree, or a fence, steps over it. 
When he runs, he holds his nose high, that he 
may lay his horns upon his back. This prevents 
his seeing well, and causes him to trip occasion- 
ally, and get a heavy fall. He is said to com- 
bine the strength of the ox with the speed of 
the horse, and to be easily domesticated. A 
gentleman in Maine trained a pair to draw a 
carriage. They did the work very well, but if 
they took it into their heads to go into a lake 
or river, to cool themselves, nobody could stop 
them. 

Gbnus — Tarandw. The Reindeer. 

A remarkable member of the deer family, 
found in both the old and the new world, is the 
reindeer — Tarqndus rangifer ; called reen by the 
Laplanders, caribou in Canada, and bennesoak by 
the Esquimaux. It lives, where no other rumi- 
nating animal could live, on the white mosses 
which cover the ground like snow in the low- 



6o 



ABOUT DEER. 



lands, or on the long black lichens which trail 
in the forests. 

It is about four and a half feet high. Its 
horns are long, slender and round, with antlers 
flattened at the ends. Its thick, warm coat is 
brown above and white beneath; as it grows 
old, it turns gray, and sometimes quite white. 
Its long black hoofs are cloven, and the parts 
spread when they are set down in the snow, 
giving a broader footing. When lifted, they 
strike each other, and make a clicking noise, 
which may be heard at some distance. 

The reindeer is the Laplander's only wealth, 
and his sole means of living. When harnessed 
to a sledge, it draws him and his scanty house- 
hold goods from one place to another, instead 
of a horse. Like the cow, it gives him milk, 
cheese and meat. Like the sheep, it furnishes 
warm though homely clothing, as well as tents 
and bedding. The tendons, he uses for thread; 
the horns are made into various things of use; 
the tongues are a delicacy which he exports. 



MILKING TIME. 



6l 



Sometimes a single herd contains as many as 
a thousand deer, but usually not more than two 
or three huudred. With such a fortune, the 
Laplander is independent. With two hundred 
deer, and a small family, he can get on; but if 
he has but one hundred, he is a poor man, and 
usually joins his stock to that of some wealthy 
neighbor, for whom he works as a herdsman. 

Yon Buch, a celebrated traveler, thus de- 
scribes the milking time : 

" It is a new and a pleasing spectacle, to see, 
in the evening, the herd assembled around the 
gamme (encampment) to be milked. On all' the 
hills around, every thing is in an instant full of 
life and motion. The busy dogs are everywhere 
barking, and bringing the mass nearer and 
nearer; and the reindeer bound and run, stand 
still and bound again, in an indescribable vari- 
ety of movements. When the feeding animal, 
frightened by the dogs, raises his head, and dis- 
plays aloft his large and proud antlers, what a 
majestic sight! And when he courses over the 
ground, how fleet and light are his speed and 



62 ABOUT DEER. 

carriage ! We hear nothing but the incessant 
cracking of the hoofs, as if produced by a suc- 
cession of electric shocks — a singular noise; 
and from the number of reindeer by which it is 
produced, it is heard at a great distance. When 
all the herd, consisting of three or four hun- 
dred, reach the gamme, they stand still, or re- 
pose themselves, or frisk about, playing with 
their antlers against each other, or in groups 
surround a patch of moss, browsing. 

" When the maidens run about with their 
milk-vessels, from deer to deer, the brother or 
servant throws a bark halter round the antlers 
of the animal which they point out to him, and 
draws it towards them. The deer generally 
struggles, and is unwilling to follow the halter ; 
and the maiden laughs, and enjoys the labor it 
occasions, and sometimes wantonly allows it to 
get loose, that it may again be caught for her ; 
while the father and mother are heard scolding 
them for their frolicksome behavior, which has 
often the effect of scaring the whole flock." 

In reviewing the natural history of the deer, 



GOD'S CARE FOR DEER. 6$ 

we are forced to admire the wondrous forecast 
with which that Providence which feeds the 
ravens and clothes the lilies, has created them 
for a specific purpose, and has given them qual- 
ities which peculiarly fit them to fulfil this pur- 
pose. Like most other animals which chew the 
cud, they were doubtless meant to be food for 
man ; but, unlike the ox or the sheep, they van- 
ish before cultivation, and are food only for sav- 
age man. But the savage would kill them with- 
out discretion, and wild beasts are equally fond 
of them. Danger threatens every where. Hence 
they have an acute sense of smell, a very delicate 
ear, with great speed and activity; while their 
natural timidity keeps them always alert. It is 
not easy to approach a deer from the windward, 
and the slightest noise puts the whole herd to 
flight. Thus, by constant watchfulness, the race 
is preserved, in spite of attacks by savages or 
wild beasts, and only retires berore the superior 
skill of civilized man, armed with weapons more 
deadly than the arrow and the javelin. Doth 
God care only for deer, and ravens, and lilies ? 



About j3 



bout Idats. 



Vertebrata. Mammalia. 

Order — Cheiroptera. — Hand-winged. 

Genus — Pteropus. — Wing-footed. 



" Bat, bat, come into my hat, 
And I'll give you a leg of bacon." 

JO cry the boys, throwing high their 
caps, when one of these little crea- 
tures goes flittering through the 
air, in the twilight of a summer's 
evening. Here and there they are, 
sweeping round the light, away 
into the darkness, seen but a mo- 
ment, and then gone, as quick and 
as still as thought. Did any bat 
ever accept the challenge, and come for the 
bacon ? Perhaps they are too intent in chasing 




68 



ABOUT BATS. 



the small game which they follow in their flick- 
ering flight, to heed such grander offers. At 
any rate, they eat a vast number of insects. 

One summer evening, a bat was caught in the 
room where the writer was sitting. We put 
him under a glass case on the table, and then 
brought him all the moths we could find. When 
he saw a moth, he would crawl towards it in his 
uncouth way, until he was near enough to 
spring, and, in a flash, he had it in his mouth. 
But the moth was too large to be swallowed at 
a gulp, and lay across his jaws. He could not 
turn it round; he could not swallow it as it was; 
and he was too shrewd to let it go, and trust to 
catching it again. Moreover, the light was 
brighter than any he was used to, and a number 
of strange eyes were watching him. Although 
afraid, he seemed to think best to secure his 
prize first, and then consider his situation. 

He had no fingers or paws on his fore feet, 
which could help him with his moth, but he 
brought his hind feet to his face, curling him- 
self nearly double, turned the moth round in a 



CAPTURED BAT. 69 

twinkling, so that he could begin at the head, 
and then munched it down — body, wings, and 
ail — very much as a cow eats a wisp of hay, or 
a cabbage-stalk. Thi3 amused us so much that 
we ransacked the house, and kept him busy all 
the evening. 

"We left a narrow — very narrow — place for 
the fresh air to come to him, that he might not 
suffocate during the night ; and in the morning 
he was gone. Whether the cat made her sup- 
per of him, or some person lifted the case and 
let him go, or he raised it and freed himself, we 
did not know. We thought he had no great 
cause of complaint against us. We had given 
him a fat supper for a short captivity ; and he 
had paid us for our pains, by showing us how 
curiously he trussed his fowls and ate them. 

Like the toad, the bat has been much abused. 
People used to think that the acrid juice that 
the toad covers his skin with, when he is han- 
dled, is poisonous; and that he has a poisonous 
stone in his head. Neither of these things 
are true; and the bunch-backed toad, that silly 



70 ABOUT BATS. 

children are sometimes afraid of, is one of the 
most useful servants in the garden. Just after 
nightfall, when you see him hopping about, a 
little more busy than usual, though never in a 
hurry, unless to get away from your stick~ he is 
only looking about for his supper. He jumps 
under a cabbage-leaf, and his bright eye sees a 
worm fastened to the under surface, where you 
would never think of looking. His little red 
tongue darts out like a flash, so quick that you 
can scarcely see it, even if looking right at him ; 
he smacks his jaws once, and the worm is gone, 
while he hops on after another. 

So the bats have been thought to forebode 
disaster, and their silent flight through the house 
has been deemed an evil omen. There is nothing 
of the kind. They really do a great deal of ser- 
vice in their way, catching insects which fill the 
air. In fact, they do by night very much the 
same work which the swallows do by day, and 
in very much the same way. 

The name cheiroptera signifies hand-winged, and 
has been given to this order, on account of the 



BATS' ETES. 7 1 

curious way in which the fore-paws, or hands, 
have been developed into wings. If the fingers 
of a man were drawn out like wires, or umbrella 
bows, three or four feet long, and then a thin 
membrane should stretch from finger to finger, 
and from the little finger along the sides and 
legs to the feet, the man would make a pretty 
good imitation of a bat. This membrane, which 
covers the framework, and so makes the crea- 
ture's wings, is very thin, soft, and delicate, and 
nas no hair or fur. It is plentifully supplied 
with nerves, and is so sensitive that it seems like 
a second pair of eyes. One naturalist, more 
scientific than humane, put out the eyes of sev- 
eral bats, and then let them loose in a room 
where he had stretched strings in various direc- 
tions. They flew back and forth, through the 
network of strings, without touching them, as 
if they had another sense similar to sight. 

In order to furnish muscular power to move 
so large sails as the bat spreads, his breast-bone 
is made to project forward in a strong ridge, like 
that of a bird. The shoulder-blades and collar- 



72 ABOUT BATS. 

bones are also very strong; and in the whole 
structure of that part of the body, he resembles 
the birds. The long lingers serve to fold the 
wings together, when not in use. The thumb 
joint is not attached to the others. It has a 
hook at the end of it r by which the bat drags 
itself along- when on the ground ; he also has 
hooks on the hind feet r to hang himself up with 
when he sleeps. 

The bats include five sub-families, nearly 
eighty genera, and a great number of species. 
They may all be placed in two great groups: 
the fniffivoToiiSy or fruit-eating; and the insectiv- 
orous, or insect-eating, bats. The first are also 
called rousettes. 

These have sharp, cutting teeth, and flat 
grinders. They sometimes vary their fruit diet 
by eating birds and small quadrupeds. They 
live in East India and Africa. Of the forty 
known species, the black rousette, Pteropus edidis, 
or eatable bat, is the largest. It has a body as 
large as a cat, and its wings spread about four 
feet. It lives in Smida and the Molucca Islands. 



MIS C HIE VO US BA TS. 7 3 

The kalong, or fox-bat, P. Javanicns, a native 
of Java, spreads its wings about five feet. These 
bats live in companies; and having chosen a 
large tree for their home, hang by the claws of 
their hind feet to the naked branches. A 
stranger might mistake thern for some kind of 
fruit, or game, hung up in a market for sale. 
So they sleep through the day, enveloped in 
their leathery wings ; but at night they quit 
hanging, and start out in quest of food. They 
direct their flight to the forests, villages, and 
plantations, and do immense injury by eating up 
every kind of fruit, from the commonest and 
coarsest, like the cocoa-nut and bread fruit, to 
the rarest and most delicate. The natives have 
to cover their mangoes with wicker baskets, to 
preserve them from the havoc of these plunder- 
ers. Imagine the mischief, if your neighbor' s 
cat, and all the rabbits and woodchucks of the 
forest, could fly into your pantry and store-room, 
and eat all the provision which had been care- 
fully hung up, out of the way ! 



74 ABOUT BATS. 

But, as we said in the beginning, most of the 
bats, including all among us, live upon insects. 

Genus — PhyllostorrMB. — Leaf-faced. ■ 

The genus phyttostomoe, the vampires, has a 
curious membrane, like a leaf, which grows on 
the end of the nose. They live in South Amer- 
ica. They have a bad reputation of sucking 
blood from animals, and even from men. The 
ends of the toes of men, the ears of horses, or 
the combs and wattles of fowls, are said to be 
As favorite pastures. When it has found a feed- 
ing-place, it watches until the creature it pro- 
poses to bleed is fast asleep. Then it carefully 
fans its victim, while it bites a tiny hole, not 
larger than a pin's head, through which it draws 
blood enough for a meal. 

Darwin relates that in Chili, near Coquimbo, 
the servant found his horses very restive ; put- 
ting his hand, in the dark, suddenly upon the 
withers of one of them, he caught a vampire. 
In the morning, the place where the bite had 
been made, was readily found. Waterton says 



VAMPIRES. 75 

that he has repeatedly seen both men and ani- 
mals which had been bled by vampires, and had 
examined their wounds. But he also says that 
he never could discover how they actually drew 
the blood. 

" For the space of eleven months/' he writes, 
" I slept alone in the loft of a wood-cutter's 
abandoned house, in the forest; and though the 
vampire came in and out every night, and I had 
the finest opportunity of seeing him, as the moon 
shone through apertures where windows once 
had been, I could never be certain that I saw 
him make a positive attempt to quench his thirst 
from my veins, though he often hovered over the 
hammock." 

Others explain such facts, by saying that there 
are some persons whom a vampire will not touch, 
while some frequently suffer. 

This bat, P. spectrum, has a body about six 
inches long, of a reddish-brown color. 



7^ ABOUT BATS, 

Gemus — Vespertilio. — That fly at evening. 

The common bats belong to the genus vesper- 
iilio, named from their habit of flying ait evening 
or vesper. The English and German boys call 
them flitter-mice. Some half-dozen bats of 
North America are referred to this species. 

The red bat, V. noveboracencis, is three to four 
inches long, and spreads his wings from ten to 
twelve inches. Its color is reddish-tawny. The 
hoary bat, V. pruinosus, is four and a half inches 
long, and spreads fifteen. He is gray above, 
with a fawn-colored band about the throat. The 
little brown bat, V. subululatus, is three inches 
long, spreads nine inches; color, olive-brown 
above, brown beneath. 

Genus — Plecotus. — Folded-ear. 

The genus plecotus is distinguished by a fold, 
or pointed membrane, in the ear, whence its 
name, folded-ear. When hanging by the hooks 
of its hind feet, the real ears, which are almost 
transparent, and are very beautiful, are tucked 
under the wings, and the fold seems to be the 



TAMED BATS. 77 

ear — quite changing the whole appearance of 
the creature. Mr. J. G. Wood says : 

" This bat, P. aaritus, is very easily tamed, and 
will take flies and other insects from the hand. 
One that I had in my possession, used to hang 
by the wing-hooks during the whole of the day, 
and could hardly be persuaded to move, or even 
to eat; but when the evening came on, it became 
very brisk indeed, and after carefully combing 
itself with its- hind feet, it would eagerly seize a 
fly or beetle, and devour it, always rejecting the 
head, legs and wings. It was then very impa- 
tient to be released from the cage, and would 
show its uneasiness by climbing about the cage 
and fluttering its wings. During the short time 
that it lived, it seemed very gentle, and only bit 
me once, though I used frequently to handle it." 

Poets and painters have adopted, if they have 
not increased, the popular feeling against bats. 
The ancient idea of the harpies, half bird and 
half human, which flew to tables spread with 
food, and defiled what they did not devour, may 
have been borrowed from the larger creatures 



78 ABOUT BATS. 

of this kind, which dwelt in Eastern countries, 
The Scriptures speak of them as unclean, as em- 
blems of darkness, desolation and ruin. Sculp- 
tors have used them to signify night and sleep. 
As painters have given to angels the wings of 
doves, so they have clothed their demons w T ith 
the plumeless, angular, yet powerful, wings of 
bats; and an artist need only paint a gloomy, 
rocky cave mouth, with the outline of a bat's 
wing in the thickening shade, to suggest a hor- 
rible den, peopled with fallen spirits. 






■%■■$■■ ; 
e; v, 

11' II ' ft 1 !'" /-! 

llffM 




About Seals. 



Vertebrata. Mammalia. 
Order— Camivora. — Flesh-eaters. 
Family — Phdddce. — Seal-like. 
Genus — Phoca. — The Seal. 




|0 you know that fishes breathe? 
They do breathe, but not just as 
^ <,, men, birds, or beasts, that live in 
^%) W&- PCjl the air, breathe. You know that 
you nave lungs, into which you 
draw air through your nostrils. 
In your lungs, there are millions 
of little cells, or bags, with very 
thin, delicate linings. The blood 
from the heart comes to one side of this lining, 
and the air to the other side. A part of the 



82 ABOUT SEALS. 

pure air which you have . breathed in, goes 
through into the blood, and is "carried away 
with it, all over the body; while impure air 
from the blood comes through the lining, and 
is breathed out. 

Your lungs are in your chest, but a fish's 
lungs are in the side of his face, and are called 
gills. You can easily lift the gill-covers, and 
find them. The gills are thin plates, edged with 
very many little cells, which the blood circulates 
through. The fish takes water in at his mouth, 
and forces it out between these plates, over the 
thin lining of the cells. The water has some 
air mingled with it, which passes through the 
cell-linings, and purifies the blood, so that these 
cells act very much like the cells in your lungs. 

If you hold the mouth of a fish open, so that 
he can not force the current of water through 
his gills, he will suffocate and die — just as a 
man will die, if you should stop the air from 
going to his lungs. If the fish is taken out of 
the water, or the man is placed under water, 
each will perish, because his lungs are not fitted 



HO W FISHES BREA THE. 83 

to purify the blood, while they are acting in 
such a medium. The gentle opening and shut- 
ting of the mouth of a fish, which you see in a 
vase of gold-fish, or in an aquarium., is to the 
breathing of the fish, what the gentle and con- 
stant heaving of your chest is to your breathing. 

You can easily understand now, that creatures 
which live in the water ^re not fish, unless they 
are fitted to breathe under water. The whales, 
which are often called the largest fish in the 
sea, are not fish at all. They have a fish-like 
form, because that form is best fitted for motion 
through the water; and their fin-like paddles 
are just so much of arms or legs as they need 
to push themselves along. But the w r h'ale 
breathes with lungs instead of gills, and if 
forced to stay under water, even for a couple 
of hours, would drown like a man or a horse. 
Besides their manner of breathing, the young 
of whales are born and fed during infancy, like 
the young of other mammalia. 

The family of seals, likewise, live mostly in 
the water; and their forms, gradually tapering 



84 ABOUT SEALS. 

from the shoulder to the tail, fit them for motion 
in this element. Their fore-legs are very short, 
being little more than paws, or paddles, fastened 
at a sort of shoulder. The hinder legs are turned 
backwards, so as to seem almost part of the 
tail; the thigh and leg are very short, and the 
foot is formed like the fore-paw — the toes 
webbed. Their bodies are covered with a thick 
double ftir, which, in water, is pressed close to 
the skin, and keeps' out the wet. This fur is 
kept constantly oiled by fat secreted from the 
skin, and is thus made water-proof. Besides 
the thick garment of fur, the seal wears, just 
under his skin, a warm under-jacket of fat, 
which helps to keep out the cold, even in the 
icy regions about the pole. 

The motions of the seals ill water are very 
easy and graceful. They are driven mostly by 
their hind feet, which turn inwards, and obtain 
much force against the water. When they 
would come on land, a few sharp strokes shoot 
them out upon the shore, or the edge of the ice, 
and then they scramble up as fast as their short 



TRAINING SEALS. 85 

legs will carry them. On land, they move very 
awkwardly, in a gait between a crawl and a 
shuffle, but considerably fast. "When they take 
to the water, they wriggle to the edge, and tum- 
ble themselves in without ceremony, glad to be 
at home again. 

They are expert fishers, and so get their liv 
ing. Tame seals have been trained to catch 
fish for their owners. They become quite 
docile, when carefully taught. Their eyes are 
large, full, and intelligent. Their nostrils and 
ears are so formed that they can be closed when 
under water. Their teeth are armed with long, 
sharp points ; fish once caught seldom escape. 

The common seal, Ph. vitulina, inhabits the 
colder waters of most parts of the world. It is 
a handsome creature, with beautifully mottled 
skin, and large, intelligent eyes. Its color is 
generally grayish yellow, with spots of brown 
or black, which are largest on the back. Its 
length is seldom more than five feet. 

The fishermen dislike the seal very much, 
because it has more skill than they. It will 



86 



ABOUT SEALS. 



even take the fish out of the fishers' nets. A 
crafty old seal will keep up this kind of robbery 
for years, without giving the fishermen any 
opportunity for revenge. 

The Irish have a strange tradition about a 
seal, which haunts the same waters for a long 
time. They think the creature has a charmed 
life; that no bullet, however well aimed, will 
strike him; that no steel, however keen or 
well thrust, will pierce him ; that no array of 
nets will hold him. So, if the seal be only bold 
and wary, he soon gets a reputation which is a 
sure protection; for no one will dare to attack 
a creature which is under supernatural protec- 
tion. Indeed, the fishermen generally think it 
unlucky to kill a seal, and that the murderer 
will have no farther success at sea; so they suf- 
fer the robbery as calmly as they can. 

The capture of seals becomes a profitable 
business in many parts of the world, particularly 
in Xewfoundland,and in the islands about Cape 
Horn. They are valuable for their skins, and 
for the oil which is obtained from their fat. 



CATCHING SEALS. 87 

Those who catch seals, land as quietly as pos^ 
sible, on the shore, or the ice where the animals 
are lying, and cut off their retreat to the water. 
As the frightened seals try to escape, the sealers 
strike them over the nose with clubs, and stu- 
pefy them. A wounded seal will fight savagely. 
It turns upon its side, shuffles along, and 
scratches furiously with its fore-paws. If a man 
is in its way, it tries to throw itself upon him, 
and bear him to the ground. When the beach 
is covered with coarse gravel or pebbles, it is 
quite as safe to be before the seal as behind 
him ; for in his rush to the water, he throws a 
constant stream of stones behind him,* which it 
is not easy to avoid. In the water, the seal may 
some times be shot with a rifle ; but the hunter 
must be very skillful, for the animal shows only 
a small portion of his head, and, if not killed at 
once, will escape into deep water. 

The common seal is easily tamed, and makes 
one of the kindest pets, displaying a beautifully 
loving and gentle nature. 

An English author gives an account of a seal 



88 ABOUT SEALS. 

which was taken when probably about a fort- 
night old. In a few weeks, it became quite 
tame, would eat from the hand, follow its 
keeper about, and show by its action that it 
knew and loved him. It was fond of warmth, 
and would lie for hours by the kitchen fire, 
raising its head to see a new comer, and nestling 
close to the dogs, who soon became quite recon- 
ciled to their new friend. The winter after it 
was caught was rough and stormy; boats could 
not often go to sea, and there was but little fish 
for the seal to eat. Milk was used instead ; but 
it consumed a great deal, and the keepers finally 
concluded to return it to the sea, and let it take 
care of itself. 

So it was taken out about two miles from 
shore, in a boat, and dropped quietly overboard. 
But it was not willing to be turned away. Fast 
as the boat was rowed, the seal swam still faster, 
crying all the time so loud that it could be heard 
a great distance, and so pitifully that its owner 
could not help taking it in, and carrying it home 
again, where it lived in clover for a long time. 



TAME SEALS. 89 

Another author mentions a tame seal, which 
was repeatedly put overboard at sea, but as reg- 
ularly returned to the house which it loved. 
Once it contrived to creep through an open 
window, and so reach its old corner by the fire. 

The harp seal, Ph. groenlandica, is named from 
the peculiar marking of its fur. "When but a 
few months old, it is nearly white, and is clothed 
with wool; during the second year, it turns 
gray ; in the third year, it is marked with dark 
spots ; and by the fifth year, it has two broad 
dark bands, extending from the shoulders to 
near the tail. The figure formed by these bands 
is thought to resemble the form of an ancient 
harp; whence the name. The native Green- 
landers have several names for it, according to 
its age and markings. In the first year, they 
call it atdk ; when full grown, attar soak. 

This seal lives in great numbers on the coasts 
of Greenland, Iceland, and other Arctic regions. 
It does not come on shore, but prefers to lie on 
the floating islands of ice, where it gathers in 
large herds, under the rule of a single chief. 



9° ABOUT SEALS. 

One of the herd is always made to do duty as a 
sentinel, and is expected to give warning when 
danger approaches ; but, for all that, a skillful 
hunter finds little trouble in coming near 
enough to destroy them. 

The harp seal is hunted for its fur. Its oil is 
thought to be the purest and best of animal oils. 
Like the common seal, this species is very intel- 
ligent, and is easily tamed. 

Another species is the crested seal, Ph. crista- 
tus. This creature has a broad head and a short 
muzzle. From the muzzle a keel-shaped crest 
rises six or seven inches, and seems to support a 
sack, which, like a hood or cowl, covers the 
whole head, and is only a strange enlargement 
of the nose. We have before said that the seal, 
when taken, is usually stunned by a sharp blow 
over the nose. The crested seal finds this hood 
a great protection, deadening the force of the 
club. An animal which the hunters supposed 
to be killed, often recovers, and fights desper- 
ately with teeth and claws. 

This seal is of great value to the Greenlander 



USEFULNESS OF SEALS. 9 1 

Of the skin, he makes his thick, warm clothing, 
from his bonnet to his boots ; and, besides, he 
covers his water-proof kayak, or boat, with it. 

This boat is small, sharp at each end, and 
entirely covered over, except a small hole in its 
deck, just the size of the owner's waist. He 
tucks himself through this hole into the boat, 
and then braves, single-handed, the fury of the 
ocean waves. He uses the teeth of the seal for 
spear-heads, and makes floats of the creature's 
stomach. These he fastens to the spear, to show 
where it is, and to resist the struggles of an ani- 
mal wounded in the water; and thus he gets a 
chance for another blow. 

He has two ways of catching neitsersoak, as 
he calls this seal. The animal makes for 
itself holes, through which it can crawl upon 
the ice without going to the edge of the 
field. When the hunter finds a seal-hole, he 
builds a wall of snow and ice near by, and 
hides until the game comes out. At another 
time, he creeps towards a seal which he sees 
lying on the ice. If the animal moves, the 



92 ABOUT SEALS. 

man drops, and lies still until the seal recovers 
from its fear, and goes to rest again. Then the 
man must lay aside all human ways and mo- 
tions, and imitate only the actions of a seal. In 
this way, he slowly creeps between the creature 
and its hole, or comes up to it when asleep, and 
kills it. 

The elephant seal, or sea elephant, Ph. leonina, 
is the largest member of this family, measuring 
sometimes thirty feet in length, aud eighteen 
feet in circumference. It gets its name, not 
only for its great size, but for a curious exten- 
sion of the nose, something like the trunk of 
an elephant. Only the males have this probos- 
cis, and they do not show it unless excited. 
Then they thrust out the nose, blow through it, 
and look fierce. In spite of all this bluster, 
they are not disposed to fight, except occasion- 
ally with each other, and will run away from 
danger if they can. 

A single large male will furnish about seventy 
gallons of very pure oil. The fur is bluish-gray, 
shading to brown. It is common in the south- 



THE SEA BEAR. 93 

era hemisphere, and migrates to colder latitudes 
and back, as the seasons change. 

Another seal found in the southern ocean, is 
called the sea-leopard, from its spotted skin. 

The sea lion, Ph.jubata, is about fifteen feet 
long, and weighs about sixteen hundred pounds. 
It frequents Kamtschatka, and the western coast 
of North America. It is by nature quiet, and 
w T ill suffer pretty rough usage before it will move 
from the spot where it happens to lie. 

As the sea lion is so called from the coarse 
hair about its neck and shoulders, like a mane, 
so the general appearance of the next species we 
shall mention, gives it the name of sea bear, 
PA. ursina. This seal is only about eight feet 
long. Its limbs are better developed than those 
of any of its cousins, and it can stand, walk, 
and run, quite well. Its fur is grayish-brown, 
very soft and wavy, and brings a high price. 

When these seals come on shore in the begin- 
ning of summer, they are found in families, each 
old male having sometimes forty or fifty wives. 
Each family takes for itself a part of the beach, 



94 ABOUT SEALS. 

where no intruders are allowed to enter. If a 
trespasser is found, a general fight begins, in 
which all ages and sexes join in great fury. One 
traveler, who was not suitably armed, was glad 
to get upon a rock, which the seals could not 
climb ; there he was kept a prisoner for several 
hours. The father of the family is very strict 
in his discipline, and treats his wives quite 
harshly ; if a mother should drop her cub, when 
carrying it awav, the old fellow at once turns 
upon the culprit, and punishes her fault with a 
bite. 

These animals seem very intelligent, and have 
a great variety of tones, by which they converse 
with each other, and even express their meaning 
so distinctly that men understand them. 

The most strange and fearful of the seal fam- 
ilv. though not the largest, is called the walrus, 
morse, or sea-horse, Trichtcus rosino/ras. The 
feature peculiar to this animal is a pair of long 
tusks, of the finest ivory, which project down- 
ward from the upper jaw. These are some- 
times two ieet in length, and weigh upwards of 



SEALS IN HERDS. 95 

ten pounds each. The ivory is so fine and hard 
that dentists formerly held it in great demand 
for making artificial teeth. In fight, these 
huge tusks become dangerous weapons, piercing 
through the planks of a boat, and even driving 
away the polar bear. 

The walrus is sometimes twenty feet long, 
and as large round as a large ox. It is covered 
with short brown hair. It feeds upon sea-weed, 
shell-fish, fish, and small seals. 

The large herds in which the walrus gather, 
present a curious sight. When a walrus comes 
out of the water, it lies down on the shore, and 
does not care to stir. But the next one comes 
up, and wants a place. As it is not convenient 
to climb over the first one, he butts him along, 
forcing him to make room, and both lie down. 
Then comes another, and they all move again. 
The huge creatures are ever in motion, butting 
and tumbling each other, and keeping up a con- 
stant roaring, which sometimes tells the sailor, 
when shut in by a fog, that ice is near. 

These herds number several thousand. When 



g6 ABOUT SEALS. 

disturbed, all go scrambling to the water, mak- 
ing it any thing but safe to be in their way. 
Those who hunt them, take dogs, which frighten 
them farther inland, and scatter them. The 
movements of the creature on land are very 
clumsy, as one might guess ; yet it contrives to 
get over the ground tolerably fast, by a series 
of jerks and leaps, sometimes helping itself 
along by its tusks. 

The Esquimaux make great use of walrus 
meat for food, and Dr. Kane speaks of frozen 
walrus as a great luxury to a benighted Arctic 
voyager — crackling in the teeth with a rich 
nutty flavor. 



About Cattle. 



Vbrtebrata. Mammalia. 
Order — Bumina?itia. — Cud-chewerg. 
Family — Cameomia. — Hollow-horned. 
Genus — Bos. — The ox. 




AVE you ever stood in t)i^ yard 
of some large farmer, on a quiet 
October evening, when tLe great 
red sun was calmly gin king 
through the haze of the Indian 
summer, and watched the long 
train which came in from the 
fields? 

The toil of summer is over. 
The grain is all harvested ; the fruit is garnered; 
the potatoes are in the bin ; and all day long the 
tramp of horses and the whirr of the threshing- 



IOO ABOUT CATTLE. 

machine has resounded from the stock-yard, or 
the merry laugh has echoed from the group 
gathered round the corn-rick, stripping the 
husks from the golden ears. 

The cattle in the meadows have been nipping 
the short thick grass which has grown since the 
hay was cut, and now come home for the night. 
Here are the oxen, looking gravely out from 
under their wide-branching horns, and stepping 
heavily and slowly over the rails which have 
been let down to give them passage. There the 
cows, meekly, and of their own accord, turn 
down the well-known lane to their yard, and 
wait the quick and skillful hand of the milker. 

Down in one corner, the sheep — poor silly 
things — have huddled themselves together, 
fearing to stay, yet dreading to leap, till one, 
made desperate by impending fate, jumps the 
only bar, and at once the air is full of twinkling 
tails, as the flock go scrambling after. Tommy 
has thrown the halter round the gray mare's 
nose, and jogs along after it, upon her back. 
Dick is dashing about on the sorrel colt, to the 



DOMESTIC ANIMALS, IOl 

great annoyance of the calves, and — if it could 
be broken — to the imminent peril of his own 
neck. Great, black, shaggy Bruce puts up his 
nose, and barks his hoarse, gruff greeting. The 
great gate swings behind the last that goes in. 
The sheep gather round their racks; the cows 
stand to be milked, or lie down to chew the 
cud; the horses are fed in their stalls. The 
twilight shadows deepen into night, as the care* 
ful husbandman makes all secure, and turns his 
weary feet toward his cheerful fireside. 

" The curfew tolls the knell of parting day; 
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea; 
The plowman homeward plods his weary way, 
And leaves the world to darkness and to me." 

Of the domestic animals, none is more thor- 
oughly and entirely useful than the ox. The 
hog is a filthy creature, a nuisance when alive, 
and little better when killed. The sheep may 
wear a more serviceable garment ; the dog may 
be more sagacious; the horse, more swift; but 

the ox surpasses them all. He is strong, patient, 

G 



102 ABOUT CATTLE. 

and docile to labor. The cow repays all the care 
and food she requires, with her milk and cheese 
and butter. When no longer useful, alive, his 
value is none the less after he is dead. His 
flesh furnishes the most serviceable and sub- 
stantial food. His hide is converted into innu- 
merable varieties of leather, from the great belts 
which turn huge machines, to the delicate mate- 
rial of a glove. His hair binds the particles of 
mortar together, in the plaster of our rooms. 
Of his horns, combs, buttons and knife-handles 
are made. Even the parings of skin, the hoofs, 
and waste bits, are boiled into the thick paste 
which we call glue. His nature adapts itself to 
every place and to every climate, although he 
thrives best in those regions where the soil and 
climate are best fitted for the life of man. 

The species of the genus bos, whose numerous 
varieties are all called oxen, is not known as a 
wild animal. Like the horse, if he ever had 
any untamed relatives, they have long since van- 
ished. Mention is sometimes made of wild cat- 
tle in the north of Scotland, and on the plains 



WILD SCOTCH CATTLE. IO3 

in soath-western Russia; but there is little rea- 
son to believe that they are the relics of the 
native wild stock. Like the immense herds 
now found in South America, they are probably 
the descendants of tame cattle which have gone 
astray, and become wild. The wild Scotch 
cattle are only found in a few parks, and have 
never been seen free in the unenclosed wild 
places of the country. These cattle are pure 
white, with black horns and hoofs. 

The domestic cattle of the Highlands were 
usually dark, varying from dun to black, and so 
were called " black cattle," in distinction from 
those which were wild. The term is now used 
in England, to distinguish the oxen and cows 
from the other animals of the farm-yard, which 
are called " small cattle." 

Columbus brought cows to Hispaniola in 
1493. The Spaniards soon sent more to their 
various colonies, and from them the vast herds 
of Texas and South America hava descended. 
The French brought cattle to Canada in 
1600; the English, to Jamestown in 1611, 



104 ABOUT CATTLE. 

and to Massachusetts in 1624. The early set- 
tlers had few and poor barns; sometimes their 
crops of hay failed, or were destroyed by the 
Indians; and their herds, poorly sheltered and 
badly fed, suffered very much from the severe 
climate. The breed grew small and rough, and 
was good neither for the dairy or for the butcher. 
Afterwards, more care was taken, the native 
stock was improved, and new importations of 
fine cattle were made from England. 

Although all the English cattle probably 
descended from the same source, they have 
come to differ very much among themselves^ 
and are called by different names. The varie- 
ties have been classed by the size of their horns. 
The short-horn or Durham stock are large, 
thick and solid. They give rich milk sparingly, 
and are unrivalled for beef; but are too heavy 
and slow for work. The long-horns, including 
the cattle of Lancashire and Leicestershire, do 
not find much favor in this country. The mid- 
dle horns are not a mixture of the other two 
kinds, but are a distinct variety. The most 



THE SACRED BULL. I°5 

noted of these are the Devons and Herefords. 
They have long, straight bodies, and clean, fine 
limbs, are quick and docile, and so are well 
adapted for work. They fatten easily, and their 
various good qualities make it difficult to decide 
between them and the Durhams, Besides these, 
the Ayrshires and Alderneys find favor, either 
for the ease with which they are kept, or for 
their beauty, or some supposed fitness for pecu- 
liar localities. 

Eo animals are more free from disease, than 
cattle, if properly treated. In summer, they 
need good pasture; and in winter, good hay 
and roots, with clean, airy stables, and plenty 
of water and exercise. They furnish the means 
of keeping the land fertile, and generally a dis- 
trict where dairies are kept grows richer every 
year, while lands constantly used in raising 
grain, grow poorer. 

One variety of this same species is the Brah- 
min bull, or zebu of India. The bulls are 
deemed sacred, and wander where they please # 
without being disturbed. If one lies down in 



io6 



ABOUT CATTLE. 



the narrow street, and blocks up the way, the 
passers take some other route, and leave him 
at rest. It is thought a sin to kill them, and as 
they are allowed to help themselves to whatever 
they like, even out of the baskets of the market 
women, they get very fat and lazy. They are 
of all sizes, from that of the common ox, to the 
littleness of the Shetland . pony. Some are 
entirely milk-white, but most are dun, passing 
into black above and white beneath. Their 
horns have considerable variety of size and 
curvature; their large ears hang down beside 
their cheeks; the dew-lap is very large. The 
flesh is not so good as the beef of common cat- 
tle, except the hump, which all think delicious 
when properly cooked. This hump is a large 
mass of fat above the shoulder, and is peculiar 
to the creature. 

The other members of the ox family are the 
bisons and the buffaloes. 

The bisons are distinguished from the oxen 

* by the form of the head. The forehead of the 

ox is flat, the space between the eyes is narrow, 



THE BISON. IO7 

and the horns are set upon the side or edge 
of the face. The forehead of the bison is round- 
ed, and the eyes are farther apart, and on the 
sides. The horns grow from the frontal bones 
of the skull, and are arranged so that the ani- 
mal can push with his great weight, and keep 
his neck and horns nearly in a straight line. 
"When the ox tries to push with one horn, he 
must bend or twist his neck, so that he is in 
danger of breaking it, if he springs with all his 
force ; or, if the neck is straight, the horn may 
break. 

The bison has long, clean legs, and a compact 
body. He is better fitted to run than any others 
of the family. He is strong and bold. His 
very look is fierce, and he is as savage as he 
looks. This nature, and the peculiar build of 
his head-gear, make him an ugly customer at a 
rush. The chase is dangerous, but the excite- 
ment keeps pace with the danger, and so the 
bison is eagerly hunted. Besides, the skins are 
quite valuable. 



ioS 



ABOUT CATTLE, 



Gests — Bison. The Bison. 



The American bison, B, Americanus, com- 
monly called the buffalo, once roamed over 
nearly all jSorth America, but is now found 
only on the great plains between the Mississippi 
and the Rocky Mountains. He is the largest 
beast of America, and is eharacterized by a 
large head, which he carries low. a broad £; 
head, broad full chest, large hump between 

alders, thin loins, and rather slender legs. 
The horns are thick at the base, and taper 
quickly to a point. In summer his coat is thin, 
but in winter he wears a thick coat of hair, with 
a filling about the roots verv much like wool 
The hair upon the head, neck, shoulders, and 
fore-legs to the knees, is long and shaggy. His 
color is brownish black. 

These animals gather in herds, often includ- 
ing very m and& The paths leading 
to their different pastures and watering-places, 
are well-trodden roads. "When feeding, 
herds are frequently scattered over a wide 
space ; when they move forward in one mass, 



HUNTING THE BISON. IO9 

they form a dense column, which is not easily 
turned. Even if the leaders are checked, they 
can not retreat or stop, for the crowd behind 
drives them forward. 

The Indians take advantage of this. They 
choose some, who disguise themselves with the 
heads and horns of buffaloes, and lead the herd 
near the brink of a precipice. When the proper 
time comes, these decoys hide in some crevice 
of the rock, which they have looked out before- 
hand; and others, with great shouts and clash- 
ing of weapons, frighten the animals to certain 
destruction. 

At other times, the Indians and white rangers 
hunt them on horseback. The hunters ride to 
the herd, select their game, and give chase. 
The cows, which are chosen for the best beef, 
are very fleet, and give a horse a long race ; but 
every nerve of steed and rider is strained to the 
utmost. The trained horse swerves as he comes 
up to the bison, and a bullet or an arrow, thrown 
in behind the shoulder, usually brings down the 
game. If the animal does not fall, it is wise for 



HO ABOUT CATTLE. 

the hunter to get quickly out of the way ; if it 
does fall, it is left, and another is pursued. Thus 
the chase goes on, until the hunter is weary, or 
the day is gone; then the dead bisons are found, 
and their skins, with the tongues, and so much 
of the meat as is wanted, are taken away. 

When the bisons are on their guard, it is dif- 
ficult to come within reach of them on horse- 
back. At such times, the hunter dismounts at 
a safe distance, and fastens his horse. He then 
creeps on the ground towards the herd, pushing 
his gun before him. If the bisons look up, he 
remains perfectly still, so that they may suppose 
him to be a stump or a rock. When they see 
no movement, they go to eating, and he to 
creeping again. In this way, if skillful, he may 
get near enough to kill two or three. 

The skin of the bison^ tanned in the Indian 
manner, with the hair on, is the well-known 
buffalo-robe, so comfortable a protection against 
winter's cold, so cosy a covering in a sleighing 
frolic. The horns are wrought into powder 
flasks ; the wool has been made into hats, and 



USES OF BISONS. Ill 

even into coarse cloth. The Indians of the 
prairie depend on these animals for almost their 
entire subsistence — food, tents, clothing, and 
.utensils. The flesh is their chief food, eaten 
fresh in summer and dried in winter. The 
skins furnish tent covers, blankets and bedding; 
of the coarser parts, they make saddles, and 
long ropes, or lariats, to fasten their horses or 
tie up their bundles; and, besides, they furnish 
the chief article of trade with the white men, 
and the only means by which they can procure 
guns, knives, beads, and such other things as 
they wish to buy. The sinews, they use as bow- 
strings ; and the small fibres as twine or thread. 
The brains serve to soften and dress the skins. 
The hoofs are mallets, and the leg-bones are 
sharpened into chisels. Other bones are pointed 
and made into needles or awls. The ribs are 
curiously twined together with sinews, to make 
bows. One traveler relates that the first of these 
bows so pleased him for the ingenious skill with 
which it was made, that he offered his horse in 
exchange for it; his offer was refused. The 



U2 ABOUT CA TTLE. 

improvident slaughter which the Indians make 
of this beast, so invaluable to them, is very 
wasteful. Myriads are slain every year, merely 
for their skins, their humps, or their marrow- 
bones — the rest being left to the wolves and 
the vultures. 

The European bison, JB. bonasus, differs from 
the American in being smaller, less shaggy, and 
in having coarser and shorter wool. He is sav- 
age and fierce. He is found only in the marshy 
parts of Poland, in south-eastern Russia, and in 
the Caucasus. Even in these localities, he is 
very scarce, and the race would soon be lost, 
but for the care of the Emperor of Russia, who 
will not allow any to be shot in his dominions. 

Genus — Bubalus. The Buffalo . 

The true buffaloes, B. bubalus, live only on 
the Eastern continent. The animal which is 
called by that name in America, is of another 
variety. They are quite large, but low in pro- 
portion to the size of their bodies. They have 
no hump, like the bisons, and the dew-lap is 



A BATTLE. 1 13 

small. They are clothed with thin, coarse, 
black hair. They are fond of wading in the 
mud and water, and therefore are usually found 
in marshes and jungles. In the heat of sum- 
mer, they retreat to the highlands, and when 
they return, they are said to take advantage of 
the swollen streams, and float down at leisure. 
It is hardly possible that this can be true ; but, 
at any rate, they swim well. Their gait is 
heavy. They run with their horns laid back 
and their noses thrust out, guided mainly by 
the sense of smell. They are found wild in all 
parts of India. By nature, they are fierce and 
ungovernable; but wherever the people have 
any use for them, they have been tamed and 
made to work. Their strength is so great, that 
they are a match even for the tiger. Captain 
Basil Hall gives an account of a battle between 
a tiger and a buffalo : 

" The buffalo entered the ring quietly enough, 
but after looking about him, turned to one side, 
and, as if he felt a little bilious, overturned a 
tub of water placed there expressly for his use. 



H4 ABOUT CATTLE. 

The tiger refused for a long time to make his 
appearance; and it was not till his den was 
filled with smoke and fire, that he sprang out. 
The buffalo charged his enemy in a moment, 
and by one furious push, capsized him right 
over. To our great surprise, the tiger pocketed 
this insult in the shabbiest way imaginable, a*nd 
passing on, leaped at the ropes, with which his 
feet became entangled, so that the buffalo was 
enabled to punish him most ingloriously. 
When at length the tiger got loose, he slunk 
off to a distant part of the area, lay down, and 
pretended to be dead. The boys, however, 
soon put him up again ; and a couple of dogs 
being introduced at the same moment, they all 
set at him. One bold dog actually caught the 
tiger by the tail; but a slight pat of the mighty 
monster's paw, crushed the yelping cur as flat 
as a board. The buffalo, who really seemed 
anxious for a fair stand-up fight, now drove the 
dogs off', and repeatedly poked the tiger with 
his nose, and even turned him half over several 
times with his horns." 



THE CAPE BUFFALO. 1 15 

When tamed, they are chiefly used for 
draught. "When dead, only the skin and horns 
are of any use. The flesh is rank, coarse and 
worthless. 

The arnee, B. and, is another variety of 
Indian buffalo, remarkable for courage, strength 
and fierceness. It is sometimes seven feet high 
at the shoulders. Its huge horns measure ten 
feet from tip to tip, and are so heavy that a man 
can scarcely lift them. They grow outwards 
and backwards, and then turn down, forming a 
half-moon. They are not round, but triangular, 
and are covered with wrinkles. These crea- 
tures are very much afraid of fire ; they hate 
red colors, and where they are plenty, no one 
dares wear scarlet. 

The Cape buffalo, B. coffer, has large horns, so 
thick at the base that they cover the whole fore- 
head. The beams bend downwards, and then 
turn upwards at the points, which are quite 
sharp. They spread about five feet from tip to 
tip. This animal is considerably lower than the 
Indian buffalo, but is firmer and more compact. 



xi6 



ABOUT CATTLE. 



Its body is nearly destitute of hair ; about the 
head and neck, it has a beard and short mane. 
Its hide is hard and black. It has never been 
tamed, and when ranging the forest alone, is 
dangerous to approach. There seems to be little 
in this creature like the common ox, although 
they belong to the same family. Still, we do 
not know how much fierceness has been tamed 
out of the ox, in the long training of ages ; and 
even now, a vicious bull is seen with .most safety 
from the other side of the fence. 

A little species of ox, which is called the yak, 
or grunting ox, B. grunniens, lives in Central 
Asia. It is only about three and a half feet 
high. It has a short head, broad nose, large 
ears, short, slender, round, upright horns. A 
mass of long hair falls from the shoulders 
almost to the ground. The Tartars weave this 
into cloth, of which they make clothing, tent- 
covers, and even the ropes which hold up the 
tents. 

The tail is covered with long white hair, like 
horse-hair, but finer. These tails are sold at a 



THE MUSK OX. "7 

great price. They take » fine dye, and are fixed 
into handles of ivory or metal. In India, they 
are called chowries, and are used as fans to keep 
away mosquitoes. Elephants are taught to use 
the chowrie, and to wave it about the heads of 
those who ride on their backs. The Chinese 
ornament their caps with them. The Turks use 
them to show the rank of high army officers. 
They are fastened to long staffs, as we use flags, 
and are set before the tent in the encampment. 
A pasha of three tails is almost as high in rank 
as a general with three stars. 

G-enus — Ovibos.— Sheep-ox. 

The last and most distant relative of the ox 
family which we shall mention, is the musk ox, 
Ovibos moschatus ; a creature which seems mid- 
way between the ox and the sheep. It dwells 
in northern America, in a country generally 
rocky and barren. It is about the height of a 
deer, but broader and stouter. Its horns cover 
the whole forehead; they curve very much, like 
those of the cape buffalo. Its brown hair is 

H 



n8 



ABOUT CATTLE. 



curly and matted on the shoulders, and so thick 
as to give the appearance of a hump, although 
there is none. Beneath the long hair, grows 
a fine ash-colored wool, which would be valua- 
ble to spin, if it could be obtained in sufficient 
quantity. 

• The musk oxen feed in flocks of twenty to 
thirty. They run nimbly, and climb hills and 
rocks with ease. If hunters fire at them with- 
out showing themselves, the poor creatures seem 
to fancy that it thunders, and crowd together in 
a mass, so that they give a good mark. If they 
happen to see their enemy, they are no longer 
deceived; they at once charge upon him, and 
are very dangerous. Their flesh is tolerably 
good when fat, unless too highly flavored with 
musk. 

Such are some of the cattle that wander upon 
" a thousand hills." When wild, they have 
enough of courage and sagacity to protect them- 
selves from danger; when tamed, they are 
man's most useful servants — the type of pa- 
tient, quiet endurance. In either case, they 



WORSHIP OF CATTLE. HQ 

illustrate the wonderful fitness which exists 
between the various parts of the mechanism of 
the world. In early ages, cattle were the chief 
item of wealth, as they are still among the pas- 
toral tribes which feed their herds over the wide 
steppes of Central Asia. The ox came to be 
recognized as the emblem of wealth and of pros- 
perity; and so the Egyptians came to worship 
the bull Apis, whence the Israelites in the desert 
learned to make the golden calf — and the Hin- 
doo Brahmin to this day deems the Zebu sacred. 
At first, the creature may have been merely the 
sign, but the sign soon became the substance, 
and the religion whose God was a brute, became 
brutal. 

In the Jewish ceremony, the bullock was used 
as a sacrifice. It was not worshiped — it was 
slain. It must be without spot or blemish, the 
best of the herd ; nothing that was deformed or 
in any way imperfect, would serve. This form 
and substance of sacrifice had, indeed, its value, 
as presenting continually, with ever fresh repe- 
tition, a type of the great sacrificial atonement 



120 ABOUT CATTLE. 

yet to be made; but it had a significance, more 
forcible, because more immediately applicable. 
By this means was shown the grand contrast be- 
tween the true faith which worshiped Jehovah, 
and which offered the best of man's most valuable 
wealth to an unseen and spiritual deity, and that 
other false pretense which exalted that wealth 
in the form of a beast, and made it a god. The 
contrast was between those who worshiped the 
beast, and those who sacrificed the beast. The 
same contrast still exists between such as wor- 
ship wealth, in those more refined forms which it 
now assumes, and those who recognize in it a 
means for the attainment of greater good, and 
who, in themselves and in their offerings, seek 
more fully to honor God. The world has not 
yet ended the worship of Apis — the golden 
calf is not yet dethroned. 



About Eeai\s. 



Vertebrata. Mammalia. 
Order — Camivora. — Flesh-eaters. 
Family— Ursidc&.— Bear-like. 
Genus — TTrms. — The Bear. 




LL the species of bears have 
great size, large limbs, and 
heavy gait. They walk upon 
the flat soles of their feet, and 
are, therefore, with the rac- 
coons, called plantigrades. The 
print of the foot of a black 
bear, left in the soft earth, re- 
sembles very much the impres- 
sion of a man's hand — fingers, thumb, and 
palm, being distinctly marked. This form of 
foot takes away much of the swiftness which 



1 24 ABOUT BEARS. 

beasts of prey usually possess. The dog and 
cat families move upon their toes, or digits, and 
are called digitigrades. 

Bears' feet have five toes, armed with large, 
strong claws, fit for digging and climbing, 
rather than for holding prey or tearing flesh. 
They eat a variety of food, and, besides flesh, 
are fond of nuts, acorns, berries, growing corn, 
and young grain. 

They seldom attack man, unless driven by 
severe hunger, or provoked; but when angry, 
are very dangerous. They are not only savage, 
but solitary; making their lonely dens in the 
most secret and inaccessible places. In winter, 
they sleep in their dens, in some cavern of the 
rocks, or in the hollow of some old tree. Here 
they pass months, without food, in a torpid 
state, breathing so gently and slowly that one 
would hardly suppose them alive. As the win- 
ter passes, their fat wastes away; until, when 
they crawl forth in the spring, they seem to 
have slept off all their flesh. 

There is a tradition that about the fourteenth 



WHAT BEARS EAT. 1 25 

of February, the bears wake up and come out 
of their hiding-places. If they see their shad- 
ows on the' snow, they think that spring has 
come ; if not, they believe that they have waked 
too soon, and go back to take another nap. 
Will all the lads and lasses who read this, be- 
lieve it as certainly as they believe that other 
tradition, that all the little goosies select their 
mates about the same month and day? 

The American black bear, Ursus Americanus, 
is about four feet long and two and a half feet 
high, and weighs from two hundred to four hun- 
dred pounds. His head is long, nose pointed, 
limbs strong and clumsy, tail short, feet large, 
fur black or dark brown, soft and glossy. 

He eats berries and nuts when he can get 
them, and if he can find a farmer's pig-sty, 
sometimes takes a tender pig for a change of 
diet. He makes sad work in a corn-field, both 
when the corn is young and when the ears are 
fit for roasting — or, as the farmers say, in the 
milk. Fences do not protect against the bear, 
for he clambers over as easily as any boy; but 



126 



ABOUT BEARS, 



he is so foolish as to come again, and climb at 
the same place, leaving his broad tracks in the 
soft earth. So the farmers set a gun in such a 
position that when the bear returns, and rears 
upon his hind feet, to put his fore-paws on the 
top rail of the fence, he may discharge the bul- 
lets into his own breast. 

It is not easy to hurt the bear, except with 
fire-arms. He sits erect upon his hams, and 
strikes with his fore-paws, like a cat, warding 
off blows so dexterously that it is difficult to 
strike his head. Elsewhere, the blow would do 
little harm ; for one might as well beat a feather 
bed, as the body of a fat bear. 

The black bear, like most of his family, is 
very expert in climbing trees, and by this means 
is able to satisfy his excessive fondness for 
honey. In this pursuit, he suffers little injury, 
notwithstanding the fable of the bears and bees ; 
his thick hair and coat of fat make him care as 
little for stings as for blows. Indeed, the bees 
can find a sensitive part only about the nose or 
eyes, and these he is willing to risk; so without 



THE GRIZZLY BEAR. I 27 

delay he thrusts his paw into the honey-comb, 
and licks off the honey. 

When other food fails, he goes to streams or 
ponds and catches fish. He is found in swamps 
and forests throughout North America. His 
fur is valuable; and those who are not too fas- 
tidious, eat his flesh. It tastes like pork; and 
if the fat be removed, and the meat properly 
cooked, it will serve to satisfy hunger. 

The brown bear, XL arctos, of Europe, much 
resembles the black bear of America, but is 
considered a distinct species. 

The grizzly bear, TJ. horribilis, is the most 
powerful and dangerous wild beast of America. 
He is from six to nine feet long, and sometimes 
weighs as much as eight hundred pounds. His 
'hair is longer and finer than that of the black 
bear, and the color varies from a grizzly gray to 
a light brown. The hair of the legs and feet is 
darker and shorter than that on the body ; on 
the face, it is so short and pale as to make the 
creature seem bald ; on the neck, it grows to a 
stiff 1 , coarse mane. 



*28 ABOUT BEARS. 

■ 
The feet and claws are very large. The fore- 
foot of a specimen measured by Lewis and 
Clarke, was nine inches broad, and was armed 
with claws six inches long. These claws are 
not pointed, but are thin and wide, fitted to dig 
in the earth. 

Notwithstanding his size, his unwieldy form, 
and his shambling gait, he runs with great 
speed, and his strength overcomes even that of 
the bison. The Indians regard him with super- 
stitious awe, and make preparations to hunt him 
with many ceremonies. A necklace of bears' 
claws, which can be worn only by the brave 
who has himself killed the bear, is a mark of 
great valor, and entitles the wearer to peculiar 
honors. Since the Indian has learned to use 
the rifle, the risk is somewhat less than when* 
he fought bruin with arrows and spears ; yet, 
with fire-arms, a steady hand and sure aim are 
necessary, for a wounded, angry bear, is very 
dangerous. There can be no escape; life is 
staked against life. 

The grizzly bear has a kinsman as strong and 



THE POLAR BEAR. 1 29 

fierce as himself, in the great white or polar 
bear, U. maritimus. Very few animals are found 
in^the extreme cold about the north pole, and 
these are not usually as large or as strong as 
those of kindred species which inhabit warmer 
countries. The bear, however, grows to an 
enormous size, measuring from eight to ten feet 
in length, and weighing from one thousand to 
fifteen hundred pounds. He is as fearful a 
tyrant on the lonely wastes of snow and ice in 
Greenland and Nova Zembla, as the lion on the 
burning sands of Africa, or the tiger which 
lurks in the dense jungles of India. 

This animal is usually described as snowy 
white, except the tip of the nose and the claws, 
which are black. A stuffed skin, which Dr. 
Kane brought from Greenland, now at the 
Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia, 
is covered with short, close fur, of a tawny yel- 
low. The head of this bear is very small, when 
compared with his body ; the ears small and 
rounded; the limbs short and strong. 

He feeds chiefly upon seals, fish, and the dead 



13° ABOUT BEARS. 

bodies of whales. When he hunts the seal, he 
gets to leeward — the side of his prey away 
from the wind — and swims quietly towards him. 
As he comes near, he makes frequent dives, and 
at last comes up close to the spot where the seal 
is lying on the ice. If the seal tries to escape 
by rolling into the water, the bear is ready to 
seize him ; if he lies still, the bear springs on 
the ice, kills him, and eats him at his leisure. 

In these fishing journeys, now swimming and 
now floating upon a cake of ice, the bear is 
often carried far out to sea, and is driven to Ice- 
land, or as far south as Newfoundland. In Ice- 
land, he finds cattle and sheep, better flavored 
food than seals and fish; and he makes sad 
havoc, until the people all turn out and kill 
him. 

Dr. Kane found the polar bears very trouble- 
some, in disturbing the supplies of provisions 
which he left in store for himself. One cache 
was built with great care, and walled in with 
very heavy stones. Yet the timers of the ice 
seemed to have found little trouble in breaking 



STRENGTH OF THE BEAR. I3I 

in. Not a morsel of provision remained, except 
some which was put up in round iron cases with 
conical ends; these, neither claws nor teeth 
could open. These cases, though weighing over 
eighty pounds, they had rolled and tossed about 
like foot-balls. A tin can of liquor, they had 
mashed into a ball, and torn with their claws as 
with a cold chisel. They did not relish salt 
meat, but loved the ground coffee, and gnawed 
all the old canvas, and even the flag. They 
rolled the bread-casks over into the broken ice, 
and chewed the India-rubber cloth into all sorts 
of hard knots. 

Next to the walrus, the bear is the chief food 
of the Esquimaux; and, with the fox and seal, 
furnishes most of their clothing. He is hunted 
with dogs, which are trained not to fight, but 
simply to annoy him, and keep him from get- 
ting away. "When the track of a bear is found, 
the hunter examines it to find out the size and 
age of his game. He then follows the trail, 
drawn by his dogs, in his sledge. When the 



I3 2 ABOUT BEARS. 

bear is seen, two of the dogs are loosed, while 
the others continue to bring the hunter nearer. 

Presently the bear stops at bay, and the 
hunter, loosing the rest of his dogs, grasps his 
lance, and prepares for a fight. If he is skill- 
ful, he provokes the animal to chase him, as if 
he were running awav. As soon as the bear 
gets his unwieldy body fairly in motion, the 
hunter turns and runs back again, and as the 
bear turns after him, he thrusts his spear into 
the creature's neck. If he does not kill him 
outright, he has often to leave his spear, and 
run for his life. This bear does not resort to 
the hugging and boxing of the black and griz- 
zly bears, except when at bay, and absolutely 
beset; he uses his teeth much more frequently. 

Among the most curious chapters of natural 
history, is that which describes the ways in 
which animals, guided by natural instinct, pro- 
vide for their young. "Where, in all the frozen 
regions of the north, can the polar bear find a 
den where she may place her infants and keep 
them from freezing to death ? The frozen earth 



WHERE BEARS SLEEP. 133 

and the solid rock are alike too hard for di^- 
ging. There are no hollow logs to creep into: 
and neither log or cave would protect against 
that bitter cold which is an hundred degrees 
colder than freezing water. In this extremity, 
both bear and Esquimaux take to the snow 
itself, " the covering snow/ 5 for shelter. 

The Esquimaux cuts out cakes of frozen snow- 
crust, and builds him an oven-shaped house, like 
an enlarged beaver-hut. Intc^this den he crawls, 
with his wife and weans ; he spreads his seal- 
skins on the snow floor; he hangs his seal-oil 
lamp to the snow-roof; he stuffs himself with 
walrus-meat; and then he and his all cuddle 
together like pigs in a sty, in a steaming, stifled 
air, at summer heat, which would soon suffocate 
a white man. 

The bear does much the same. In early win- 
ter, Mrs. Bear finds a snow-drift, under shelter 
of a rock, where, by a little scraping, she makes 
a place large enough to lie in. The drifting 
snows soon hide her; her warm breath melts 
through the coverlid a hole which never quite 



134 ABOUT BEARS. 

closes. This hole furnishes air to the sleeping 
bear below. Its wreath of frost-work betrays 
her hiding-place to her neighbor of the snow 
oven, if he chance to pass that way. 

Here she sleeps till March. When the keen- 
est cold is over, she digs her way out, and leads 
away a brood of baby bears, about as large as 
rabbits ; large enough to withstand the cold, 
and strong enough to journey with the mother 
in her roaming for^, living. 

Before going into seclusion, Madame Bear 
had done her best to lay by a store of food, and 
for want of other store-room, she had packed 
her supply under her own jacket; she had made 
herself as fat as she could with diligence in such 
starved hunting-grounds. The wonder is, that 
she can carry away nutriment enough to sup- 
port herself and nurse her young for three 
months, without eating a mouthful ; but such is 
the fact. Mr. Bear and the other members of 
the family who have no babies to care for, do 
not go into the snow thus, but wander most of 



THE BEAR'S NATURE. 1 35 

the winter, picking up what scanty living they 
can. 

Most bears can be partially tamed, but none 
can ever be made a pet. They are sullen, 
capricious, revengeful, cruel. Solomon com- 
pares a wicked ruler to a " roaring lion and a 
raging bear." Isaiah describes the universal 
peace which shall reign when " the earth shall 
be full of the knowledge of the Lord," as the 
time when the cow with the bear shall feed, and 
their young ones shall lie down together. When 
that day shall dawn, those whose natures have 
become like the natures of bears, or of other 
fierce and cruel beasts, will have laid aside these 
brutish qualities, and have taken in their place 
those more lovely traits which belong to the 
lovely and loved among men and women. Who 
does not wish that this happy hour may come 

soon in his own nature ? 

I 




< 
o 

En 

I— I 



a 



About the Rhinoceros. 



Vbrtbbrata. Mammalia. 
Order — Pachydermata. — Thick-skinned. 
Family — Rhinoceridm. — Rhinoceros-like. 
Genus — Rhinoceros. 




jUE of my readers, suddenly placed 
in the midst of an Indian jungle, 
would quite likely be much sur- 
prised by the dense growth of 
strange tropical plants which 
would surround him, and by the 
deep rich colors of leaf and flower. 
But surprise would increase to 
wonder, and perhaps to terrible 
alarm, if, by chance, he should meet some of 
the animals which lurk in those dense thickets, 
prowl amid the canes, or glide through the rank 



14° ABOUT THE RHINOCEROS. 

jungle grass. He might get a glimpse of the 
spotted leopard, or cruel tiger, stealing along in 
search of a supper. lie might hear an elephant 
crashing, with heavy tread, through the bamboo. 
While admiring the gay plumes of the tropic 
birds, or amusing himself with the noisy chatter 
and comical antics of innumerable monkeys, he 
might be startled by a sudden movement of the 
deadly cobra. On every hand, he would see the 
tendency of that warm climate to produce an 
intensely vigorous form of every kind of animal 
or vegetable life. It would appear in the dense 
luxuriance of plants and trees ; in the myriads 
of insect tribes ; in the beauty of the birds ; in 
the deadly virulence of animal and vegetable 
poisons ; in the great size of some herb-eating 
creatures; and in the fierceness and strength of 
beasts of prey. 

The huge size and unwieldy motions of one 
strange beast, would especially attract his notice. 
This creature does not w T ander far from the 
streams, like the elephant, or live much in the 
water, like the hippopotamus ; but he loves to 



GENERAL DESCRIPTION. I4I 

wailow ia the soft mire, like a huge hog. His 
legs are thick and short — each foot having 
three toes, armed with thick and strong hoofs. 
His skin is nearly or quite bare of hair or bris- 
tles; and, as if a little too large for him, is laid 
in broad folds about his neck, shoulders and 
thighs. It is studded with knots, like the heads 
of rivets on iron plate, and is so thick and 
tough that ne : ther the claws of a tiger or a 
leaden bullet make much impression upon it. 
The head and neck are short ; the ears of mod- 
erate size; the eyes are small, and so set in the 
side of the head that the creature can not see 
before him. 

The most singular feature of this singular 
beast, is a large stout horn — some species have 
two — set, not on the forehead, as horns usually 
grow, but directly over the bones of the nose. 
The natives of the jungles call him by various 
names in their languages; but the Europeans 
have kept the old Greek word, made of rAm, 
nose, and keras, horn ; the rhinoceros, or nose- 
horn. 



H 2 ABOUT THE RHINOCEROS, 

The horn of the rhinoceros differs from all 
other horns, in being formed entirely of true 
horny substance. Those of the deer, though 
called horns, are composed wholly of bone. 
Those of cattle, sheep and goats, have a hollow 
cover of horn, upon a cone of bone. The horn 
of the rhinoceros has no bone at all, and so is 
not sensitive, like the horns of other creatures. 
It seems to be formed of a great number of 
hairs, or bristles, closely grown together. As 
each fibre has its own attachment to the skin, 
the horn is very firmly fixed in its place, and 
yet may be separated from the bone of the nose 
by a sharp knife. It is set where the most vio- 
lent use of it can not injure the brain, and so 
that it can be driven with the whole weight of 
the animal. This gives it great power, while it 
may be worn quite to the stump without pain. 
It is very hard, and perfectly solid ; it makes a 
fine material for handles of tools, or other arti- 
cles which need a high polish. 

The Indian rhinoceros, S. indieus, is about five 
feet high and nine feet long ; the largest weigh 



THE INDIAN RHINOCEROS, 1 43 

about six thousand pounds. Its horn is slightly 
curved backward, and is sometimes as much as 
three feet long, and six inches in diameter at 
the base. The skin is blackish-gray. Its move- 
ments are slow. It carries its head low, like 
a hog, sometimes plowing its horn into the 
ground, or crashing through the dense jungle 
by sheer weight. It is naturally quiet; when 
attacked, it becomes very furious and danger- 
ous, charging with great fury, and ripping with 
its horn any creature which opposes it. From 
its lonely habits, the Malays call it " the re- 
cluse." 

It is fond of burying itself in the soft mud, 
in the rainy season, and lying quiet, with its 
nose out. Sometimes it remains until the hot 
sun has somewhat baked the crust above it, 
which it breaks with some trouble.- The natives 
of Sumatra are said to take an unfair advantage 
of any which they find in such a place. They 
gather dry sticks, and quietly pile a heap of 
brush over the poor fellow, and then set the 
heap on fire. The additional heat hardens the 



144 ABOUT THE RHINOCEROS: 

crust so much that the animal can not get away, 
and is baked on the spot. 

The Javanese rhinoceros, i?. javanus, is 
smaller than the Indian. His skin folds are 
arranged differently, and he is longer and more 
slender. He is fond of the coffee-bush and 
pepper-vine, and does great mischief at night 
in gardens. He is sometimes tamed and rid- 
den, or made to draw. 

Until lately, travelers have described only one 
species of African rhinoceros, but at least four 
are now known. The one longest known is the 
" keitloa," or rhinaster, B. bicornis. It has a 
second smaller horn just behind the large horn 
on the nose. This kind is found throughout 
Africa, from the Cape of Good Hope to the Nile 
It is fierce and dangerous. One is described 
which charged upon a heavy wagon, stuck fast 
in the deep sand, and with its horn lifted the 
wagon out of the sand and drove it forward 
some distance. It then turned aside and spent 
its fury upon the bushes. 

The natives cut the thick skin of this animal 



THE BORELE. 1 45 

into long strips, which they beat with hammers 
on the ground, and so harden ; they are then 
smoothed and sand-papered, and used for whips. 

Besides the keitloa or two-horned black 
rhinoceros, there is the "borele," with a single 
horn, also black. Like the other, it attacks any 
thing which provokes it. It feeds upon roots, 
and the branches of the " wait-a-bit" thorn — a 
species of acacia, whose long and numerous 
thorns usually cause any one who is caught 
by them to wait a bit before he gets clear. It 
does not accumulate fat, and its flesh is so tough 
that even Bushmen will not eat it. 

The white, two-horned variety, R. simus, is 
larger than either of the others. In temper it 
is much milder than the black, even seeking 
to escape when wounded, unless defending its 
young. Its flesh is said to be excellent — Mr. 
Cumming preferred it to beef. The natives call 
him the " muchuco." 

A fourth variety, JR. osicelUi, is quite rare. It 
is also two-horned, and the foremost horn 
projects forward, almost touching the ground 



I46 ABOUT THE RHINOCEROS. 

when the creature runs. This horn is very 
straight and long, sometimes four feet. The 
Africans make ramrods and clubs of it. 

Many trees in the tropical forests, where the 
rhinoceros lives, grow very quickly, and have 
no firm wood, but are huge stalks, just fit for 
this creature to eat. His upper lip is flexible, 
and can be lengthened out so that he can take 
hold of the branches, as an elephant would with 
his trunk. With this lip he pulls down the 
branches which have most leaves and eats them 
first. When he has thus disposed of the 
branches he does not 'stop : he thrusts his horn 
as low in the trunk as he can, rips the body of 
the tree into laths, and then grasps huge mouth- 
fuls in his jaws, and twists them off like so many 
bunches of celery. • 

When pursued, he runs with considerable 
speed, in spite of his great size and his short 
legs. He has a kind of shambling trot, which 
increases after a few moments, and carries him 
rapidly along. While it is true that a horse 
can seldom come up with him, it is quite as 



FOSSIL REMAINS. 1 47 

much due to his cunning as to his speed. He 

makes from wood to wood, choosing the thick- 
est jungle rather than the open plain. The dry 
trees he breaks down, and the green bamboos, 
which he pushes aside with his great body, 
spring back again with such force as to be 
troublesome and even dangerous to his pursuer. 
If the horse gets before him he halts a moment, 
and then dashes straight forward at the hunter. 
This movement defeats him, for the horse turns 
aside and allows him to pass, while the man 
slips to the ground and disables him by a cut 
across the tendon of the heel. 

The remains of several extinct species are 
found in the rocks. One was disclosed by the 
melting of ice in Siberia. The flesh, skin and 
hair were all so well preserved as to show 
clearly what the living creature had been, and 
that it was well fitted to bear a Siberian winter. 
Fossil remains have been found in Italy and in 
Germany. Bones of a species not larger than 
the hog have been found at a great depth in 
France, mingled with those of extinct kinds ol 



148 about the rhinoceros. 

crocodiles and tortoises. A fossil species is 
found in Nebraska. 

The rhinoceros is probably the unicorn of the 
Bible. Some have supposed that this animal 
was a kind of goat or antelope. But no single 
horned species of either has yet been found, and 
it can hardly be believed that an animal so 
widely distributed, and so remarkable in every 
way, was unknown to the sacred writers, or 
would not have been mentioned by them. In 
Job we find written — 

Will the unicorn be willing to serve thee? 

Or will he abide by thy crib ? 

Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow? 

Or will he harrow the valleys after thee? 

Wilt thou trust him because his strength is great? 

Or wilt thou leave thy labor to him? 

Wilt thou believe him, that he will bring home thy seed, 

And gather it into thy barn ? 

The Hippopotamus. 

Another beast, still larger than the rhinoceros, 
lives in the warm lands of Africa, and though 
not of the same genus, belongs to the same 



ANO THER GREA T BE A ST. 1 49 

family. Like the other, he keeps his old Greek 
name, hippos, horse, potamos, river, or hippopot- 
amus, horse of the river, H. amphibius. His 
name teaches his habits more than his appear- 
ance, for he resembles a horse in nothing but 
size, and even in that respect he is only less than 
the elephant. His form is very uncouth ; the 
body is bulky, round and fat; the legs are short 
and clumsy ; the mouth prodigiously wide, and 
filled with large and strong teeth. The tusks 
of the lower jaw are sometimes two feet long. 
Their substance is harder and whiter than ivory, 
and was long used by dentists as material for 
artificial teeth. The thick and broad lips are 
beset with scattered bristles; the nostrils are 
small and open on the top of the nose ; the small 
eyes are fixed high on the face, in a prominence 
which resembles the garret windows of a Dutch 
house. The tail is short, and but thinly covered 
with hair. "When just out of the water the skin 
appears pale brown or mouse color, with a 
bluish cast on the back; the belly is flesh 
colored ; when dry the general color is a dingy 



15° ABOUT THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 

brown. If left long without water, as happens 
sometimes when one is carried about for exhibi- 
tion, a thick and almost bloody moisture covers 
the skin, and the creature seems to be in dis- 
tress. 

In the large rivers of Africa the hippopotamus 
walks about at the bottom of the streams, quite 
at home, raising its nose out of the water, once 
in awhile, for a sniff of fresh air. It is also 
found in inland lakes, and even out at sea — 
though it does not eat fish or drink salt water 
— probably it is swept out by the current at a 
flood. At night it leaves its home for food, 
eating the herbage which grows on the banks 
or in the neighboring marshes. 

On land its movements are slow and awk- 
ward. Its track may be easily distinguished 
from that of any other animal, by the line of 
unbroken herbage which is left between the 
marks of the feet. The body is so wide, and 
the legs are so placed, that the feet are quite 
apart, and make a double track. If pursued it 
runs as fast as it can to the water, plunges in, 



IN THE LIMPOPO. 1 5 I 

and walks away under the surface. In places 
frequented by man it is very shy by day; in 
quite wild regions it rushes out of the water 
boldly, overturning whatever is in its way. It 
does not often show any fierceness, and does 
no serious mischief, except to eat and trample 
down plantations of corn, rice, and sugar-cane, 
and to destroy trees. A few specimens have 
been taken while young, and exhibited in 
Europe and the United States. While young, 
the captives have to be fed on milk, and con- 
sume a very great quantity. 

The hippopotamus sleeps among the reeds on 
the small islets in the rivers which it inhabits. 
It is sometimes shot, and sometimes caught in 
pitfalls. From the shape of its head, and the 
position of its nose and eyes, it can lift enough 
of its face out of water, to see and to breathe, 
without rising more than an inch or two above 
the surface. 

" This animal abounds in the Limpopo, 
dividing the empire with its amphibious neigh- 
bor, the crocodile. Throughout the night the 



15 2 ABOUT THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 

unwieldy monsters might be heard snorting and 
blowing during their aquatic gambols, and we 
not unfrequently detected them in the act of 
leaving their reedy coverts to graze by moon- 
light ; never, however, venturing to any distance 
from the river — the stronghold to which they 
betake themselves on the slightest alarm. 
Occasionally, during the day, they were to be 
seen basking on the shore, amid ooze and mud; 
but shots were almost constantly to be had at 
their uncouth heads, when thrust from the 
water to breathe ; and, if killed, the body rose 
to the surface. Vulnerable only behind the 
ear, however, or in the eye, they require the 
perfection of rifle practice, and after a few 
shots become exceedingly shy, exhibiting the 
snout only, and as instantly withdrawing it. 
The flesh is delicious, resembling pork in flavor, 
and abounding in fat, which is deservedly 
esteemed the greatest of delicacies. The hide 
is upwards of an inch and a half in thickness, 
and being scarcely flexible, may be dragged 



THE SEA-COW. 153 

from the ribs in strips, like the planks from a 
ship's side." 

Cumming hunted the hippopotamus in the 
rivers of South Africa for the tusks. The first 
tnat he shot escaped into deep water and were 
lost. This poor success aroused his pluck, and 
when he next wounded a sea-cow, while she was 
floundering about in the water, he rushed in 
and tried to guide her on shore by seizing her 
short tail and pulling her about this way and 
that. She was too much crazed by the shot to 
be controlled even thus, and kept swimming 
about in circles. Then he cut slashes in the 
skin, passed a rope through, and with oxen 
dragged her on shore and dispatched her. He 
found herds of thirty and forty, and once more 
than seventy of these huge fellows tumbling 
about together, in their uncouth way, in the 
sluggish waters of the Limpopo. 

The natives take the hippopotamus with a 
harpoon, as if it were a whale or a walrus. The 
harpoon has a pole or shaft ten or twelve feet 
long, and three or four inches thick ; a barbed 



1 54 ABOUT THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 

iron point fits loosely in a socket in the end of 
the pole, and is fastened to it by a rope of many 
strands. As soon as the barb is fast to the 
animal, it comes out of the socket in the shaft, 
and gives the pole no power as a lever to pry 
it out of the skin. A strong line is fastened to 
the pole, and a buoy to the end of the line. 

The nunters float quietly down on a raft into 
a herd of sea-cows. When one is near enough 
to the raft the harpooner throws his whole 
weight upon the pole and drives the barbed iron 
into the body of the hippopotamus. The 
wounded beast dives to the bottom, but he can 
not escape. The men hasten to take the line 
to the shore, and get a turn round a tree. If 
there is no time for this they let him go, and 
follow him with their canoes, the buoy showing 
always where he is. When he comes to the 
surface they attack him with javelins. Not 
unfrequently he turns upon his pursuers, staves 
in or overturns the canoes, and even seizes some 
poor fellow in his huge jaws, which, perhaps, 
cut his victim quite in two. 



BEHEMOTH. 155 

The thick and strong hide, like that of the 
rhinoceros, is cut into strips, dried, rounded, 
and used for whips. The Dutch colonists call 
the fat zee-koe-zpeck, or sea-cow's bacon. 

The hippopotamus is supposed to be the 
creature called behemoth in the book of Job. 

The sojourn of the Israelites in the land of 
Egypt must have made them familiar with it, 
and with the rhinoceros. Others think the 
animal referred to is the elephant. 

Behold now behemoth, which I made with thee : 
He eateth grass as an ox. 
His bones are as strong pieces of brass : 
His bones are like bars of iron. 
He lieth under the shady trees, 
In the coverts of the reeds and fens. 
The shady trees cover him with their shadow; 
The willows of the brook compass him about. 
Behold, he drinketh up a river and hasteth not : 
He trusteth that he can draw up Jordan into his mouth. 

Job xl. 15-23. 




THE KANGAROO. Macropw major. 



About Several Funny Fellows. 




HUS far the creatures which we 
have talked about have been 
arranged in families, by some 
peculiarities of form or habits. 
In this chapter we will describe 
several animals which are only 
alike in being unlike every thing 
else. They have no relatives; 
they are oddly shaped; they have 
queer habits; they seem to have been made to 
show how far nature could wander from her 
general plan, and yet adhere strictly to its 
conditions. 

Two of these funny fellows live in Australia, 
where strange freaks of nature are very plenty. 
In fact, at that end of the world nearly every 



l6o 



ABOUT THE DUCKBILL. 



thing Beems to be reversed. Summer and 
winter change places. Cold winds blow from 
the south, and northeasters are warm; the 
north side of a tree or a house is the sunny side. 
The thick end of the pear is next the stem, and 
the stone of the cherry is outside the pulp. 

One of the queerest of its queer creatures has 
quite a variety of names. We will use that 
which seems to have most meaning for our 
unscientific ears, and call it the duckbill, 
because its jaws are fashioned into two broad 
plates, curiously like the bill of a duck. It is 
also called the watermole, because of its soft, 
mole-like fur, and its habit of living in the 
water. 

Some naturalists call it platypus, or broadfoot. 
Others give it the sounding title ornithorhyncus 
paradoxus, or bird-snouted puzzle. The natives 
of Australia call it mallangong, or tohunback, 
or more often tambreet. 

"When the skin of the duckbill was firs-t 
brought to Europe, naturalists thought that 
some person was trying to impose upon them 



DBS CRIPTION. 1 6 1 

by fastening the bill of a bird on the skin of 
an animal, but an examination of the bones of 
the skull proved that they were mistaken. 

The duckbill is about twenty inches long. 
His body is long and flattened, and is covered 
with thick soft fur, dark brown above and white 
beneath. The bill forms most of the mouth, 
and the only teeth are in the back of the mouth, 
two on each side, with flat tops and without 
roots. The feet are five-toed and webbed. The 
web of the fore feet extends loosely beyond the 
toes, and falls back over the strong claws when 
the animal digs. The hind feet have each a 
spur, which is hollow, and connected with a 
gland or bag, made like the poison bag of 
serpents. For this reason it has been supposed 
that a wound from the spur would be danger- 
ous, although there is no proof of the fact. 
There is no external ear, and the eyes are small, 
though bright. The motions of the jaws when 
seeking food in the mud and water, are like 
those of the duck. 

Wood says : " On looking at a living duck- 



1 62 



ABOUT THE DUCKBILL. 



bill, few would set it down as an excavator of 
the soil, yet it is a burrower, and makes tunnels 
of some length. The soft broad membrane that 
extends beyond the claws while the animal is 
walking or swimming, and in the latter case 
forms a paddle by which the creature can 
propel itself swiftly through the water, falls 
back when the foot is employed for digging, 
and aids in flinging back the soil which its 
claws have scraped away. The round body is 
admirably adapted for traversing the burrows, 
though the stuffed specimens seen in museums 
give but little idea of such capacity. As a 
general rule, these specimens are much too 
long, too stiff, too straight, too flat and too 
shriveled. During life the body is round, and 
the skin hangs in loose folds around it, having 
a very curious aspect when the creature is walk- 
ing upon land. The duckbill is, in fact, so very 
odd a being that dogs, which see it for the first 
time, as it scrambles along with its peculiar 
waddling gait, will sit and prick up their ears 
and bark at the strange animal, but will not 



HIS HOME. 163 

dare to meddle with it, while cats fairly turn 
tail and scamper away from so uncanny a beast. 

" The hair with which the body is so densely 
covered is admirably suited to an animal which 
lives in the water, or underground. Next 
the skin there is a thick, close coating of 
woolly fur, through which penetrates a second 
coating of long hairs, which are very slender 
at their bases, and can therefore turn in any 
direction, like those of the mole. The eyes are 
fuller and rounder than might be expected in 
an animal that passes so much of its time under- 
ground, but they are defended from the earth 
by a remarkable leathery flap, which surrounds 
the base of the mandibles, and looks very like 
the leathern guard of a foil. This curious 
appendage has probably another use, and is 
intended to prevent the bill from being thrust 
too deeply into the mud when the animal is 
searching for food." 

The duckbill makes his home in the bank of 
some stream, usually where the wide and still 
pools are found. He makes two entrances to 



164 ABOUT THE DUCKBILL. 

his house, one above the water and one below 
the surface, so that he may escape either by 
diving, or through the leaves which always 
carefully conceal the upper opening. 

When the foliage is put aside, a hole of 
moderate size is seen, and in the soft mud about 
it the track may usually be found. .By the 
freshness of the track, and the direction it takes, 
the natives judge whether the duckbill is at 
home or not, and so if it is best to pay him a 
visit. ♦ If they think he is there, a long stick is 
thrust in the hole, and then pits are dug down 
to the stick. Then the stick is thrust forward 
again, and so the windings of the burrow are 
traced, sometimes for fifty feet. They find 
scooped out at the end of the burrow a space 
of an oval form, lined with dry weeds and grass 
on which the young are placed. Sometimes as 
many as four young are found in one nest, but 
usually only two. 

The duckbill is very strong and active. One 
slips out of the hand almost as easily as if it 
were oiled. It is a very expert climber. The 



THE KANGAROO. 1 65 

life of the animal is spent mostly in the water 
and in its burrow. # When swimming it resem- 
bles a bundle of weeds, rather than a living, 
moving thing, but it can not remain long under 
water without great fatigue, and would soon 
drown if there were no way of escape. 



THE KANGAROO. 



Another curious class of animals of this far 
off land is the family of kangaroos, macropus or 
long footed. The first of these creatures was 
discovered in Australia, by Capt. Cook, in 1770. 
"When first seen it was thought to be like a 
grey-hound, because of its slender form and 
great swiftness. Soon another was chased with 
hounds, but he speedily escaped, and a specimen 
was not obtained until one was shot. 

The kangaroo, though quite unlike any thing 
we are accustomed to, is by no means ungrace- 
ful. The head is much like that of a deer; the 
eyes large and kind ; the mouth small ; the ears 
rather large, pointed and upright; the neck 
thin, and beautifully shaped. The fore legs aro 



1 66 ABOUT THE KANGAROO. 

very short, and have each five toes, furnished 
with long hooked claws. The hinder feet have 
only four toes; one of them is very long and 
strong, and is armed with a stout, hoof-like 
claw. 

The tail is very thick and long, and is used 
like a third leg, making the creature seem to sit 
on a three-legged stool. It feeds resting on its 
fore paws, as well as its hinder feet, but when 
alarmed it raises itself on its powerful haunches 
and bounds away with great speed. The hind 
feet are also a means of defence, for when dogs 
overtake them the kangaroos seize their pur- 
suers by their fore feet, and tear them asunder 
by a single blow of their strong hinder feet. 

The kangaroos gather in small herds, led by 
the older males, and range the country, feed- 
ing on grass and herbage. About forty species 
are known, varying in size from a rat to the 
greater kangaroo, M. major, which is the 
largest animal of Australia. It is six feet high 
as it sits upright, and weighs about two hundred 
pounds ; its tail is about three feet long, and 



THE BOOMERANG. 1 67 

four inches thick at the base. Its flesh is said 
to be nutritious. It is easily tamed. 

The natives take the kangaroo with the 
boomerang. This is a flat piece of hard wood, 
usually twenty to thirty inches long, two or 
three inches wide, and half or three-fourths of 
an inch thick. It is bent in the middle, so that 
the two arms would cut out about one-third 
of a circle. 

The natives make this piece of wood do won- 
derful things. As they throw it they give a 
peculiar twist which sends it forward for a 
space, and then makes it leap upward in the 
air and return in a circle to the place whence 
it was thrown, or even far in the rear. Some- 
times it is thrown at the ground, but leaps 
over a tree and strikes an object on the other 
side. These weapons have been made in 
England and America, but it is difficult to 
get one that will fly, and none but a native 
Australian can make them perform all the 
strange freaks which they are capable of doing. 
They are used against the kangaroos with great 



1 68 ABOUT THE KANGAROO. 

effect, stunning them, or breaking their legs so 
that they can not escape. 

The tree kangaroo, Dendrologies ursinus, hops 
about in the forests, and has curved claws to 
help it hold to the branches of the trees. 

Another variety is called the jerboa kangaroo, 
or the brush-tailed bettong, Bettongia penicillata. 
The word bettong is a native name for a class 
of small kangaroos which have short and round 
heads, quite unlike the long deer-like heads of 
the larger kinds. The brush-tailed bettong is 
about as large as a hare, and has a tail not quite 
a foot in length. It is a pretty creature, active, 
elegantly shaped, with white streakings on its 
back, a grey- white belly, and a jetty tuft on the 
tail. 

The bettong makes a nest for itself, partly 
below the surface of the ground, partly above it. 
It seeks out a moderately deep cavity, near a 
high tuft of grass. Over this hole it builds a 
roof with leaves and grass, not higher than the 
surrounding herbage, and as like it as possible. 
If it can not find grass of a suitable length near 



THE OPOSSUM. 169 

by, it goes away and gathers it. When it has 
collected a bunch of grass, it wraps its tail 
around the sheaf and jumps away to its nest, 
carrying the bundle along, as a man carries his 
umbrella under his arm. After the nest is 
finished the bettong always closes the entrance 
carefully when she leaves home, pulling a tuft 
of grass over the door. Europeans do not easily 
find these houses in the grass, but the natives 
seldom pass one without seeing it, and as the 
creature is usually at home and asleep during 
the day, they dash their tomahawks in the 
midst and kill or stun the sleepers. 

THB OPOSSUM. 

There are other funny fellows in the world 
beside those which find a home in Australia. 
One, common in the Southern States, is quite 
as queer as those we have been talking about. 
Indeed, he is a kind of distant cousin of the 
kangaroo, as both belong to the order called 
Marsupialia, or pouched animals. This means 
that the mothers have a kind of pocket, in 



17° ABOUT THE OPOSSUM. 

which they carry about their young while too 
feeble to walk; even after the little fellows are 
able to run alone they hop away out of sight 
into this nest when any danger threatens. 

The opossums are the only family of Marsu- 
pials which live in America, and they are found 
nowhere else. The others are all confined to 
Australia and the adjacent islands; of the 
animals there found more than one hundred 
species belong to this order. 

The largest of the opossums is hardly larger 
than a cat, and the smallest is about the size of 
a mouse. About twenty species are known. 

The common, or Virginia opossum, Didetphys 
Virginiana, is about twenty inches long to the 
tail, which is about fifteen inches. Its hair is 
whitish, with brown tips, which give it a dusky 
hue. From the length of the fur, and its way 
of standing out in every direction, the animal 
seems larger than it really is. It has a long, 
sharp face, and a wide mouth, full of sharp 
teeth; ears thin, naked, round and dark, edged 
with a border of white ; legs short ; feet armed 



HUNTING THE OPOSSUM. I7 1 

with short claws. The tail is thick and black, 
and covered with small scales. 

Its home is in the tree tops. It forages chiefly 
by night, eating fruits, eggs, and small animals, 
which it sometimes finds in the poultry-yard. 
It uses its tail as some of the monkeys use 
theirs, like an extra hand, climbing with it, and 
swinging by it from branch to branch. The 
young, when too large to live in the pouch, sit 
on the mother's back, and twist their tails about 
hers to keep from falling off. 

The negro boys take great delight in hunting 
" 'possums," usually in the autumn after the 
first frost. "When the creature sees that it is in 
danger, its defence is in its- cunning, rather than 
in its swiftness or its strength. It does not flee, 
but lies close to the branch on which it was 
clinging. If a dog has pursued it, and the 
master of the dog does not appear, the opossum 
climbs to a convenient place, out of the dog's 
way, and sits quietly, not troubled by the 
constant barking. But the sharp, quick bark 
of the dog often gives information that a 



1 7 2 ABOUT THE OPOSSUM. 

'possum is "treed," and the hunter hastens to 
the spot. The opossum, when it sees the negro 
climbing for it, ascends to the topmost bough, 
and clings as closely as it can, until the violent 
shaking throws it to the ground. Then, if the 
dog does not seize it, it often contrives to steal 
away in the underbrush and escape. 

Audubon writes of the opossum : 

" Methinks I see one at this moment slowly 
and cautiously trudging over the melting snows, 
by the side of an unfrequented pond, nosing as 
it goes for the fare its ravenous appetite prefers. 
Now it has come upon the fresh track of a 
grouse or hare, and it raises its snout and sniffs 
the pure air. At length it has decided on its 
course, and it speeds onwards at the rate of a 
man's ordinary walk. It stops, and seems at a 
loss in what direction to go, for the object of 
its pursuit has either taken a considerable leap, 
or has cut backwards before the opossum 
entered its track. It raises itself up, stands 
for awhile on its hind-feet, looks around, snuffs 
the air again, and then proceeds; but now, at 



HO W IT HUNTS. 1 7 3 

the foot of a noble tree, it comes to a full stand. 
It walks round the base of the large trunk over 
the snow covered roots, and among them finds 
an aperture, which it at once enters. 

" Several minutes elapse, when it reappears, 
dragging along a squirrel already dead, with 
which, in its mouth, it begins to ascend the tree. 
Slowly it climbs. The first fork does not seem 
to suit it, for perhaps it thinks it might there be 
too openly exposed to the view of some wily 
foe, and so it proceeds until it gains a cluster 
of branches, intertwined with grape vines, and 
there settling itself, it twists its tail round one 
of the twigs, and with its sharp teeth demolishes 
the squirrel, which it holds all the while with 
its fore-paws. 

" Traveling through the woods, perhaps on 
the ground, perhaps aloft, from tree to tree, it 
hears a cock crow, and its heart swells as it 
remembers the savory food on which it regaled 
itself last summer in the neighboring farmyard. 
With great care, however, it advances, and at 
last conceals itself in the very hen house. Hear 



174 ABOUT THE OPOSSUM, 

the screams of one of your best chickens that 
has been seized by him ! The precious hen 
under which you last week placed a dozen eggs 
or so is now deprived of them. The opossum, 
notwithstanding her angry outcries and ruffled 
feathers, has consumed them one by one; and 
now, look at the poor bird as she moves across 
your yard ; if not mad, she is at least stupid, for 
she scratches here and there, calling to her 
chickens all the while. 

" But suppose a farmer has surprised an 
opossum in the act of killing one of his best 
fowls. His angry feelings urge him to kick the 
poor beast, which, conscious of its inability to 
resist, rolls off like a ball. The more the farmer 
rages, the less does the animal show resentment; 
at last there it lies, not dead, but exhausted; its 
jaws open, its tongue extended, its eyes dim- 
med; and there it would lie until the bottle 
fly should come to deposit its eggs, did not its 
tormentor walk off. ' Surely,' says he to him- 
self, i the beast must be dead. 5 But no, it is 
only ' 'possuming,' and no sooner has its enemy 



ITS NEST. 175 

withdrawn than it gradually gets on its legs, 
and once more makes for the woods." 

A cat is said to have nine lives, but this 
fellow has at least twice as many. One may 
have every bone in his skin broken and his 
head mashed, and still creep away. Yet it will 
walk into the rudest traps, such as a commonly 
shrewd rat would despise. When caught it is 
easily tamed, but does not make an agreeable 
companion, or pet, as it has a very powerful and 
unpleasant smell, whenever it is irritated or 
excited. Its flesh is white when cooked, and 
the negroes think it very good, especially in 
autumn, when it is fat. A single trial of it is 
usually enough to satisfy the curiosity of a 
stranger. 

The nest of the opossum is commonly made 
in some protected place, like the hollow of a 
tree, or the shelter of some old root. The 
creature often walks into the house of some 
other animal and takes possession, and has even 
been believed to eat the rightful owner out of 
house and home. A hunter who has thrown a 



176 ABOUT THE ANT-EATER. 

rifle-ball through a squirrel's nest, has been 
surprised to see an opossum fall dead to the 
ground. It has been known to take possession 
of the nest of the Florida rat. Its own nest ia 
composed of moss and dried leaves. 

THE ANT-EATER. 

The last family of funny fellows, which we 
shall mention, is that of the ant-eaters. In 
tropical countries immense swarms of ants are 
found. These build great houses, dig long 
tunnels, march out by countless throngs, form- 
ing grand armies, under regular officers, with 
arranged brigades of workers and fighters. 
There are the agricultural ants, which sow, 
cultivate, and harvest grain ; the amazon ants, 
which capture slaves, and keep them in servi- 
tude; the driver ants, which drive before them, 
or destroy, every living creature ; the celebrated 
white ants or termites, so destructive to any 
tiling fibrous, or wooden ; the foraging ants, the 
parasol ants, and many other species. These 



THE AARD- VARK. 1 7 7 

wonderful insects we propose to describe more 
fully in another volume. 

All varieties of ants are in turn the prey of 
a family of quadrupeds which feed entirely 
upon ants, and are called ant-eaters. The 
members of this family are distinguished by a 
long head, a small mouth, and a long, flexible 
tongue, with which food is gathered. When 
the tongue is thrust out at full length it resem- 
bles a great red earth-worm, and twists and 
coils about as if it had a life of its own. As it 
wriggles into an ant-hill the ants crowd upon it, 
are caught by the slimy saliva which covers it, 
and carried into the mouth of their devourer. 

The aard-vark, or earth-hog, Orycteropus 
capensis, lives in South Africa. It is about five 
feet long, including the tail, which is nearly two 
feet long. Its powerful fore-legs are armed 
with stout claws, with which it is said to dig 
faster than a man with a spade. 

It is seldom seen by day. At night it makes 
its way to the ant-hills. With its strong claws 
it tears a hole in the side of the hill. The ants, 



178 ABOUT THE ANT-EATER, 

like the people of a walled city whose defences 
have been overthrown by an earthquake, or 
battered down by an enemy, run hither and 
thither in great dismay, while the maker of the 
mischief flings his slimy tongue among them, 
and scoops them into his mouth by myriads. 
The ant-hill, thus stripped of its inhabitants 
and left a mere stony shell, becomes a den for 
jackals, or a lurking place for serpents. The 
Kaffirs may use it for a tomb. 

Three species of ant-eaters live in South 
America. The largest is called Tamanoir, or 
great ant-eater, or ant-bear, Myrmecophaga jubata. 
It is about three and a half feet long, and has a 
tail nearly as long as itself, covered with very 
long coarse hair, like a heavy plume. The 
color is brown, with gray on the head and face, 
and a black band round the throat and over the 
shoulders. The fore feet have long curved 
claws, fit for digging, but not for running; so, 
when it moves, it folds its claws under the 
bottom of its feet, and walks on the outer edges, 
with a very awkward and toilsome gait The 



LITTLE ANT-EA TER. 1 7 9 

ant-bear makes no burrow, but sleeps under the 
open sky, using its tail for a blanket. When it 
sleeps it rolls itself into a ball, wrapped up in 
its blanket, while its coarse, bushy hair makes 
it look more like a bundle of hay than like a 
living thing. 

The little ant-eater, Oyclothurus didactylus, or 
" two-fingered twisted-tail," is about twenty 
inches long, including its tail. It dwells mostly 
in trees, and its habits seem to be a compound 
borrowed from the squirrel and the woodpecker. 
Like the squirrel it sits erect upon its hind legs, 
like the opossum it twists its tail round a limb 
to steady itself, and like the woodpecker it 
searches for insects in the crevices of the bark, 
and catches them with its long and flexible 
tongue. It is covered with soft, curled fur, of 
a pale yellow-brown. Like its larger relations 
it is active by night, and sleeps by day, with its 
tail securely twisted round the branch on which 
it sits. 




Hiita 






^ 



mgR 






THE SABLE ANTELOPE. sEgoeenu niger. 



About. Antelopes. 



Vbrtebrata. Mammalia. 
Order — Ruminantia. — Cud-chewers. 
Family — Cavicomia. — Hollow-horned. 
Ge jtus — Antilope. — The Antelope. 




^'EACEFUL as a gazelle; swift 
as an antelope ; gentle as a 
fawn. Such are the compari- 
sons, common in every mouth, 
which are suggested by this 
large family of beautiful crea- 
tures. They dwell in all the 
warmer regions of the earth — 
in the far stretching sunny 
table-lands of Asia, on the rocky pinnacles of 
the Alps, the arid plains of South Africa, and 
the broad slopes of the Cordilleras. All they 



1 84 ABOUT ANTELOPES. 

ask is, plenty of room for the use of their fleet 
limbs, and freedom from the deadly weapons 
which man lifts against them. 

The family of antelopes seems to be a con- 
necting link between the deer and the goats. 
Their size, shape, the nature of their hair and 
its color, with their fleetness, are points of like- 
ness to the deer. Their horns are materially 
different, being, like those of goats and oxen, 
hollow at the base, resting on a solid cone of 
bone, and never shed. Of their long and 
slender legs, the hind-legs are usually longest, 
whence they have great speed, as well as better 
security when clambering about the steep 
places to which they love to resort. 

The family contains many species, which 
seem to form a large circle, approaching, in 
some of its members, several other genera of 
ruminating animals. The gazelle is much like 
a deer; the chamois is more like a goat; the 
eland is like an ox; the gnu is a queer mixture 
of ox and horse, unlike either. In nothing are 
they so much like each other as in the nature 



THE GAZELLE. 1 85 

of their horns. These are two, sometimes four, 
usually long, straight or slightly curved, and 
twisted or spiral, but never coiled about like 
those of the sheep. 

The gazelle, Gazella dorcas, dwells in northern 
Africa, in large herds. The constant prey of 
both man and beast, its only safety is in its 
speed. When attacked it will not fight unless 
hemmed in where it can not escape; indeed, it 
is too small and too weak to offer any effective 
resistance to its foes, and it can but flee. The 
only exception occurs when the attack is made 
upon a herd of some size. Then the males 
form a ring about the females and the young, 
their sharp horns, like a row of bayonets, brist- 
ling on every side against the foe. They seem 
to know that this is their only form of defence; 
they keep their ranks with much spirit, and 
sometimes even make their phalanx the means 
of attack. 

The ariel gazelle of Arabia is so like the 
dorcas that it is considered a variety of the 
same species. This, with another, the Persian 



1 86 



ABOUT ANTELOPES. 



gazelle, or jairou, is the creature so often sung 
by the Eastern poets, praising especially its 
large, lustrous eyes. The word antilope, the 
generic name, literally means "bright eyes." It 
was the highest compliment to a lady's eye to 
compare it to the soft and beautiful eye of the 
gazelle. The temper of this creature is very 
gentle and teachable; it is often kept in Eastern 
households as a much loved pet. 

Its height at the shoulder is only about 
twenty-two inches. Its color is light fawn on 
the back, a little darker on the sides, and pure 
white beneath. The face is marked with 
streaks of dark brown and white. 

Its motions are so very light and graceful that 
it seems to tread on the grass without bending 
a single green blade, and to fly through the air 
without effort. At its greatest speed it thrusts 
out its nose and lays its horns upon its back, 
skimming the ground so swiftly that the fleetest 
long-bodied and long-legged greyhounds can 
not overtake it. Only trained falcons can catch 
it in fair chase. These fly at the creature's 



HUNTING THE GAZELLE. 1 87 

head, then soar into the air and return for 
another stroke, and thus, by repeated assaults, 
bewilder and delay it, until the hounds come 
up and capture it. 

"When feeding, the gazelle, like all the ante- 
lope family, is very shy. The herd always 
place sentinels on the watch : if their keen eyes, 
quick ears, or acute smell, suspect danger, the 
whole herd is instantly in flight. But the craft 
of man is superior to the instinct of the wariest 
creatures. When the gazelle is hunted, not for 
the sport of seeing it run, but for its flesh or 
skin, a space a mile or more square is enclosed 
by a wall, or better, by a fence of trees and 
bushes. The fence is made so close that the 
animals can not get through, and so high that 
they can not leap over, except at certain places 
left purposely low; here they jump only to fall 
into deep pits prepared for their destruction. 
The chief of the flock leaps first, and the others 
follow, one by one. Thus herd after herd are 
trapped, and all are slain. Their skins are 



i88 



ABOUT ANTELOPES. 



dressed into a kind of parchment, used to cover 
the small drums of Syria. 

South Africa, it will be remembered, though 
now a colony of England, was settled by the 
Dutch, and most of the. white inhabitants yet 
speak the language of Holland. In this 
language boh means buck or deer, and beesi 
means ox; hence the names which they gave 
the many kinds of antelopes which live there, 
contain usually one or other of these words, 
according as the animals seemed to them most 
like deer or oxen. 

The spring-bok, Antidorcas euchore, got its 
name from the wonderful jumps which it makes 
when startled. At any alarm it leaps high into 
the air, rising easily seven or eight feet, and 
sometimes even twelve or thirteen. If possible 
it will never cross a road. When it must cross, 
it makes the best of it by jumping clear over 
the track, thus avoiding even the touch of a 
spot which has been tainted by the foot of man. 

The spring-boks, like the bisons of North 
America, make annual migrations in immense 



"TREK-BOKKEN." 1 89 

herds. The colonists call these movements 
trek-bokken. Mr. Gordon dimming thus de- 
scribes one of these herds which passed before 
him : 

" For about two hours before the day dawned 
1 had been lying awake in my wagon listening 
to the grunting of the bucks, within two 
hundred yards of me, imagining that some 
large herd of spring-boks was feeding beside 
my camp ; but on my rising when it was clear, 
and looking about me, I beheld the ground to 
the northward of my camp actually covered 
with a dense, living mass of spring-boks, 
marching slowly and steadily along, extending 
from an opening in a long range of hills on the 
west, through which they continued pouring, 
like the flood of some great river, to a ridge 
about a mile to the north-east, over which they 
disappeared. The breadth of the ground they 
covered might have been somewhere about half 
a mile. I stood upon the fore-chest of my wag- 
on for nearly two hours, lost in wonder at the 
novel and wonderful scene which was passing 

M 



1 90 ABOUT ANTEL OPES. 

before me, and had some difficulty in convinc- 
ing myself that it was a reality which I beheld, 
and not the wild and exaggerated picture of a 
hunter's dream. During this time their vast 
legions continued streaming through the neck 
in the hills in one unbroken compact phalanx." 

Flocks of sheep, large animals, and even the 
lion, have been entangled in these immense 
herds, and carried along by the irresistible 
tide of moving creatures, 

As these great herds move over the country 
the foremost are likely to eat up all the forage, 
leaving only dry and barren fields for those who 
follow. But the first, having the choice of 
pasture, soon become satisfied ; they give place 
to the hungry ones behind, and fall into the 
rear of the column. The next, in turn, do the 
same, and thus there is a constant change of 
place —hungry ones pushing to the front, while 
those in front fall to the rear. 

Thft spring-bok is rather larger than the 
dorcas gazelle. Its general color is light yel- 
\nwrph brown; the sides are marked by a broad 



THE SASIN. 191 

band of chestnut; the tail is white above and 
black beneath; from the tail, a little way along 
the back, runs a stripe of white, which appears 
only when the creature jumps — whence the 
Dutch also call it pronk-bok, the showy buck. 

The sasin, Antilope bezoartica, is the antelope 
of India. It lives in herds of fifty or sixty, led 
by a single buck. It is about two and a half 
feet high at the shoulder. Its horns are long, 
spreading, spiral, and marked with rings. Its 
color is grayish brown on the back, white 
below; the outsides of the legs, the feet, and 
tjie end of the tail, are black. As its flesh is 
dry, hard, and tasteless, it is hunted only for 
the sport of the chase. Because of its exceed- 
ing swiftness, covering twenty-five or thirty feet 
at a bound, and rising even ten and eleven feet 
from the earth, it can be hunted only by hawks, 
or by the chetah, a large creature of the cat 
kind, trained for the purpose. This animal 
does not course for its prey, like a hound, but 
creeps up stealthily until within reach, and then 
secures it by a few quick bounds. 



I9 2 ABOUT ANTELOPES, 

A very pretty antelope is the klip-springer, 
Oreotragus saltatrix. This grizzled-brown little 
fellow is only about twenty-one inches high. 
Its hoofs are small and sharp, and it stands only 
on their tips. It lives in rocky places, and 
delights to perch on a narrow shelf, its feet all 
drawn together beneath it, and to peer out over 
a height which would be death if a single hoof 
should slip. When startled it springs up the 
steepest precipices, jumping from one little 
projection to another, like an animated India- 
rubber ball, and it soon puts itself out of the 
reach of even a rifle. The natives of South 
Africa suppose that the cry of the klip-springer 
attracts rain; in a dry time they surround a 
rocky hill where the little fellows live, and if 
possible catch a few alive. The poor creatures 
are then paraded about the kraal, or village, 
w 7 hile the rain-maker pinches them to make 
them scream. If these and other arts fail, as in 
that dry country is very likely, the magician 
lays the blame to some unlucky act, or to the 



THE WATER-BUCK, 1 93 

presence of something — ivory for instance — 
which is thought to be unfavorable to rain. 

The lnadoqua, Neotragus saltiana, is only four- 
teen inches high at the shoulder. Though so 
small, its legs are long in proportion to its size, 
and the little creature seems too frail to resist 
the slightest breeze. It is as beautiful as it is 
small. Its color . is glossy silver-gray above, 
chestnut on the sides, and white beneath. It 
lives in pairs, in the mountains of Abyssinia. 

The least of the family is the pigmy antelope 
of Guinea. It is hardly larger than a rabbit, 
being only fifteen inches long, and eight inches 
high at the shoulder. 

The water-buck, Kobus ellipsiprymnus, is 
among the most beautiful of South African 
antelopes. Its height is about four and one- 
half feet; its horns about thirty inches long, 
spreading like a lyre; its color, brown, with a 
grayish white oval spot about the tail. Its flesh 
is so strongly scented that even the natives can 
not eat it. It is very timid, and when alarmed, 
at once takes to the water. This habit serves 



194 ABOUT ANTELOPES. 

as its best protection against leopards and lions, 
for they are no more willing to wet their feet 
than the domestic cat. 

The sable antelope, or potaquaine, JEgoceros 
niger, is described by Gordon Cumming as 
follows : 

" Cantering along through the forest, I came 
suddenly in full view of one of the loveliest 
animals which graces this fair creation. This 
was an old buck of the sable antelope, the rarest 
and most beautiful antelope in Africa. It is 
iarge and powerful, partaking considerably of 
the nature of the ibex. Its back and sides are 
of glossy black, contrasting beautifully with the 
belly, which is white as the driven snow. The 
horns are upwards of three feet in length, and 
bend strongly back with a bold sweep, reaching 
nearly to the haunches." 

The gems-bok, Oryx gazella, is another of the 
creatures in which the ancient unicorn has been 
recognized. Its horns are very long, straight 
and erect ; when the side of the animal is seen 
one horn may conceal the other. It has the 



THE WATER ROOT. 195 

erect mane, long sweeping tail, and general 
outline of the horse, with the deer-like head 
and cloven hoofs of the antelope. The full 
grown male measures three feet ten inches at 
the shoulder. 

The gems-bok thrives in dry plains, where, 
for months at a time, no water can be found. 
Cumming asserts that it never, by any chance, 
tastes water. The arid soil produces a large 
oval bulb, called the water-root, six to ten 
inches in diameter, and full of an insipid juice. 
Other plants have thick juicy leaves, while a 
kind of bitter water-melon abounds. All these 
vegetables are used by the natives as both food 
and drink. The gems-bok digs out these 
bulbs, and thus supplies his system with mois- 
ture. Even the elephants plow the ground with 
their tusks, for the grateful roots. 

The flesh of this antelope is excellent. At 
certain seasons it becomes quite fat, and can be 
more easily chased : but it is always very swift, 
and exceedingly shy and suspicious. It can be 
hunted only on horseback, and captured only 



196 



ABOUT ANTELOPES. 



after a long and severe chase. No animal of 
the country is fleeter or more enduring. 

The straight horns, elegantly curved in a 
spiral pattern about the lower half, are very 
dangerous weapons. Even the lion has been 
overcome by their sharp thrusts. . Dr. Living- 
stone witnessed the attack of a lion upon a 
gems-bok. At each spring the antelope 
received his enemy upon his horns. For 
a time his failures only enraged the lion, 
making him attack the more fiercely. At 
length he gathered all his strength for a final 
and decisive leap, but the gems-bok buried his 
horn to its root in the lion's breast. For a 
moment the two beasts were motionless; 
then the gems-bok slowly backed away, with- 
drew his horn, and the lion expired. The 
victorious antelope threw up his heels and 
trotted away, seeming to have received not a 
scratch in the fight. 

The oryx, Oryx leucoryx y may be distinguished 
from the gems-bok by the curvature of its 
horns. It can use them with the same quick, 



THE ELAND. 197 

dangerous skill ; it is very unsafe to approach 
a wounded oryx, even when he is lying on the 
ground. 

The eland, Oreas canna, most resembles the 
ox. A full grown specimen is eight or nine feet 
long, six feet high at the shoulder, and will 
weigh one thousand pounds. Being heavily 
built, it is easily taken; the hunters often 
prefer to drive it near their camp before killing 
it, to save themselves the trouble of carrying 
home the meat and the skin. Like the gems- 
bok, it can live for months together without a 
drop of water. Its color is reddish fawn on the 
upper parts, and white beneath ; the head and 
neck ashy gray. One variety is striped on the 
back and sides. Its size, its gentleness, and the 
excellence of its flesh, have induced the owners 
of large deer parks in England to try to 
domesticate this animal, and the attempt has 
partially succeeded. 

In Asia an ox-like antelope is found in the 
nylghau, Poriax picta; the name signifies, in the 
Persian language, "blue ox." Its color is 



198 ABOUT ANTELOPES 

slaty-blue; the long neck bears a black mane; 
the hind legs are shorter than the fore legs; 
the horns about seven inches long, straight, 
round, and smooth. It dwells in the forests of 
India, coming forth by night to forage on the 
corn-fields in its neighborhood. 

The violent temper of the nylghau can not 
be trusted even when the animal is tamed or 
confined. It takes offence at the slightest 
cause, and at once attacks that which it dislikes. 
One which was kept in a yard was so provoked 
at a laborer, who merely passed by, that he 
completely broke down the wooden paling 
which fenced him in. Another which had been 
reared from a fawn suddenly turned upon his 
master and killed him. 

When making its attack the nylghau drops 
upon its fore-knees, moves on in this position 
until within suitable distance, and then sud- 
denly darts forward like an arrow, and with a 
force which no creature can withstand. Neither 
its flesh or its skin are of much value, and it is 
hunted only for the excitement of the chase. 



THE GNU. 199 

The gnu, sometimes called the horned horse, 
has the body, neck, and tail of a horse, the 
legs of an antelope, and the head and horns of 
an ox. There are several varieties, all of which 
the Dutch colonists of South Africa call " wilde- 
beests," wild cattle. They are suspicious, shy, 
curious, and cross. When a strange object is 
seen they spring suddenly into the air, pawing 
and capering, and then follow each other in 
a large circle about the intruder. After a 
round or two they halt suddenly, and close in 
together, while the old males begin to fight, 
charging with their horns, and dropping on 
their knees at every plunge. 

The curiosity of the gnu is fatal to him. The 
hunter has only to find a herd and stay in his 
place; if he do any thing to attract their atten- 
tion, even waving a red handkerchief, they 
will presently be charging about him, and he 
may take his choice of the herd, unless, indeed, 
they give him so hot a reception as to make 
him get away from their company to seek his 
own safety. Cumming found an old gnu disa- 



200 ABOUT ANTELOPES. 

bled by getting his fore-leg over his own horn 
probably in fight. 

The ordinary gnu, Connochetes gnu, is about 
three feet nine inches high and six feet long. 
The horns bend down by the side of the face, 
and then turn back sharply. The color is 
brownish black; the mane black. 

The brindled gnu, C. gorgon, has a smooth 
face and black skin, brindled with gray. 

The most notable of the goat-like antelopes 
is the chamois of the Alps, Hupicapra tragus. 
This animal is about three feet long and two 
feet high; its hair is long, deep brown in 
winter, and fawn color in summer ; head pale 
yellow, with a dark band on either side of the 
face; horns six or seven inches long, and 
hooked at the tip. The hooks on the horns are 
not, as some have supposed, to help it up the 
steep rocks which it loves to climb, but only 
for defence, or ornament, like those of other 
antelopes. It has, however, a kind of second, 
or false, hoofs on its hinder feet, which help it 
very much as it goes down the ledges. It puts 



THE CHAMOIS. 201 

its fore-feet close together, and presses its hind 
leg's flat against the rock: the false hoofs catch 
upon every slight projection, and check it upon 
the first shelf that is broad enough to stand on. 
But, though skillful in scaling rocks, and very 
swift on the ground, its sharp, hard hoofs make 
it as awkward on smooth ice as a pig. 

The chamois is very wary. It never feeds 
without first posting a sentinel, whose shrill 
whistle, when any thing is seen, heard, or 
smelled, which seems suspicious, puts the whole 
herd to instant and distant flight. The mark 
in the snow of man's foot will stop it in full 
career, and send it bounding away in a new 
direction. All its senses are exceedingly acute. 
Hunters who have been trained from boy- 
hood to climb the glaciers, and scale the preci- 
pices of the Alps, can hope only occasionally 
to come within long rifle range of the chamois 
when at large upon its native cliffs. 

Wild as these creatures are, if taken when 
young they may be readily tamed. A pair of 
domesticated chamois are said to have been 



202 ABOUT ANTELOPES. 

very inquisitive, prying into every thing, the 
cook's basket, and even the coal-man's bags. 
The coal -man they always pretended to fight, 
but when he came near they would spring to a 
great height upon any wall or shelf out of his 
reach, which they could find. As the man 
retreated they returned to the charge, but would 
never allow a finger to touch them. 

The only American member of this family 
is the prong-horn antelope, A. Americanus. It 
ranges over the plains of the great west from 
the Missouri to the Pacific. It is about four 
feet long and three feet high; the horns are 
hooked, like those of the chamois, and are 
peculiar in having a prong or fork. The hair 
is coarse and thick; the color above, yellowish 
brown, the under parts, and a patch about the 
tail, white. 




> 
< 



About Rats. 



Vertebrata. Mammalia. 
Order — Rodentia — Gnawers. 
Genus — Mus — The Mouse. 




|EW have any friendship for the rat. 
Of the same family as the beaver 
and squirrel, he has all the swift- 
ness of the one, and all the perse- 
vering industry of the other, with 
more real sly, shrewd, crafty cun- 
ning than both. He attaches him- 
self most persistently to the chang- 
ing fortunes of man, following 
the tide of emigration from Asia, through 
Europe, to America, and so on, keeping 
even step with the pioneer in his march 
round the world. In his eager way he says : 



206 



ABOUT RATS. 



" Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from 
following after thee ; for whither thou goest, I 
will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge." 
He is faithful, not to his leader, but to himself. 
He lives at the cost, and to the great annoyance 
of the master whose fortunes he follows, but 
whose authority he scorns, and hence he is a 
very Ishmael, " his hand is against every man, 
and every man's hand is against him." 

In spite of all efforts to destroy him, he thrives 
and multiplies. Traps, dogs, cats, ferrets, poi- 
son, and domestic quarrels — for the rat has no 
respect for his kind, and eats his sick brother, or 
his feeble child, as soon as any other dainty mor- 
sel — every form of death pursues him, yet his 
numbers increase yearly. In large cities the 
rats are doubtless scores, if not hundreds, of 
times more numerous than the entire human 
population. 

In one quarter of Paris, a large yard, con- 
structed for the convenience of the butchers, 
has a paved floor, and is surrounded by high 
stone walls. A dead animal, as a horse, is left 



KILLING RATS IN PARIS. 20"J 

in the yard at night, and the gates are set open. 
Presently the place is alive with rats. Men rush 
in with clubs and torches, the gates are shut, 
and an attack begins. Every blow, though 
aimed at random, kills. The scared rats jump 
into holes left for this purpose in the masonry 
of the walls, but only deep enough for half their 
bodies, and are surely caught. A single night's 
work killed 2650 ; in four nights more than 
9000, and in a month over 16,000 perished. The 
people in the neighborhood were not willing 
that the butchering place should be removed, 
lest they should be destroyed by the rats, made 
frantic by famine, when their food was taken 
away. 

The common brown, or Norway rat, Mus decu 
manus, has distributed himself so widely over 
the world, by following the great routes of trade. 
Every ship from an European or American port 
carries on board a colony, which is ready to 
leave actual settlers wherever land is touched. 
A pair is enough to gain foothold. All other 
vermin they fight and kill; the old black rat, 



208 



ABOUT RATS. 



M. ratius, has almost vanished from England 
since the brown rat came over from the conti- 
nent. From the sea-port they journey, free of 
cost, by every canal-packet and railway. The 
newest town in the far west is supplied with 
rats and whiskey by the first steamboat which 
ties to the stumps on its river bank. 

A wheat stack, or grain bin, may be made 
secure from rats, if built at a little distance from 
any other house, and raised from the ground on 
posts. A broad, flat stone, or an inverted tin 
pan, on each post, increases the security. If a 
rat, by any means, gets into a crib so built, he 
can not stay, for he must have water every day, 
and when once he has ffone for a drink, there is 
no way for him to return. 

But the barn, or the cellar, is not shut against 
him so easily. Digging in the earth is fun to 
him; his burrow is soon below the cellar-wall, 
and he is inside. His sharp teeth make short 
work of a cemented floor, and a well-burned 
brick is not a sure barrier. If the mason, in 
haste, left a corner filled with mortar instead of 



HO W TO CATCH THEM. 209 

more solid stone, the rat is sure to find out his 
advantage, and an entrance into your citadel. 
A rat-hole once made may be covered with sheet 
iron, or plugged with a stone, or with a handful 
of mortar filled with broken glass ; but the same 
perseverance which gnawed the first hole, will 
soon make another, if the rat wishes to enter. 
A dwelling house in Chicago was seriously dam- 
aged by water from a lead pipe which a rat had 
bitten through in the progress of his excava- 
tions. 

The smell of the rat is very acute ; a trap will 
be nearly useless, unless handled in gloves which 
have been scented with anise or carraway. A 
trap which kills or maims its victim may suc- 
ceed once or twice, but no more. The cry of 
the wounded brings his fellows, who consider- 
ately eat him up, and learn to shun his fate. 

Quick poisons, as arsenic and strychnine, have 
this advantage, that as the dying rat is almost 
sure to be eaten, the poison is passed from one 
to another ; but if one is not devoured, his decay- 
ing body may prove a great nuisance, besides 



2IO ABOUT RATS. 

the danger from the careless handling of such 
deadly drugs. A dose of tartar emetic has 
proved a very effectual ban, for a time. It is 
supposed that the inward uneasiness caused by 
this medicine, intimates that the place is un- 
healthy, and suggests a change of residence. 
The rats of that family never return, but the 
scouts of another soon find the empty house, 
and take possession of the rat-abandoned prop- 
erty, without ceremony. 

If you propose to keep chickens, beware of 
rats. Old Brownie, on her nest of choice eggs, 
has patiently sat out her three long weeks, and 
the box is all alive with fluffy down. Did you 
wonder why she always sat looking that one 
way? The old bird knew where the rat prowled, 
and her sleepless eye has never winked so tight 
as not to waken at the slightest rustle of the 
straw, while the low growl, and the quick thrust 
of beak, warned the intruder away. There is 
fresh blood on the straw now, do you see ? The 
singing eggs enticed the rat a little too near for 
his comfort or safety. 



OLD BRO WNIE'S CHICKENS. 211 

The proud mamma, fussy and happy, leads 
out her fifteen chicks. The wee things thrive 
apace, and you begin to know one from another 
by the sprouting quills and budding tails. One 
bubbles out its little life in the water pan ; so 
much was to be expected. To-day you count 
them, and two more are gone, vanished myste- 
riously, not a toe-claw left to give a sign. You 
mutter — rats. 

At night you take thought for your chickens. 
The wise old bird, bless her, knows how the in- 
sidious foe took advantage of her growing 
brood, already so large that her broad wings 
won't cover all, and stole two of her pets. So 
she has taken them all upon a low perch. With 
many pe-e-eeps, and dubious craning up of 
necks, and heads askew, now this way, now that, 
tney have all gone up. There they are, old hen 
in the middle, as many as can, nestled under her 
wings, and the rest close up on either side, the 
prettiest dozen of chickens in the neighborhood, 
At all events they are safe now; no rat can 
reach them there. 



212 ABOUT RATS. 

But in the morning there is a strange subdued 
quiet about the old bird, which you don't at first 
understand. She seems bewildered, daft; she 
clucks once or twice, one foot up, hesitating to 
step, and then she takes a step ; she gets but 
faint response. You call her, and she sidles up 
with the two that remain, sadly. There is all 
that are left of that sitting of particularly fine 
eggs that Mrs. June, good soul, gave you — you 
know you can get no more, for her hens are all 
busy raising chickens — and all there is to show 
ior the old hen's time, worth something, in spite 
of the proverb, for there is not time for her to 
sit again, and bring up another brood, before 
the sharp frosts of autumn. Now don't you 
wonder what rats were made for? 

Eats also make havoc with young rabbits. 
They creep into the horse's manger, bite his 
nose, and eat his oats. They are said to nibble 
the hoofs of the horse, and while the dogs are 
asleep, to gnaw the cushions at the soles of their 
feet. In the meat shop, the larder, the pantry, 
they always choose the best, but when there is 



THEIR USEFULNESS. 2 A j 

little choice, they eat whatever they can find. 
Here we learn their use. 

In large cities the sewers are laden with vast 
quantities of material which by its decay would 
produce noxious vapors, and cause disease. The 
rats are a grand array of scavengers that devour 
this offal, and so ward off sickness. The flies, 
which annoy housekeepers so much, serve a like 
purpose above ground. Hence the significance 
of the statement, that in sickly seasons flies are 
scarce — they have not done their work, and 
the impure air breeds fever. The spiders, really 
the housewife's friends and active allies, eat the 
flies ; one nuisance mitigates another. 

Mosquitoes, during that part of their life 
which is spent in the water, consume that which 
would make the water foul. The dragon-flies 
eat the mosquitoes, the birds pick up the dragon- 
flies, and thus the links of nature's intricate, but 
perfect chain, are woven together. 

In spite of his foul feeding, the rat is very 
cleanly in his habits. He always washes after 
eating, and takes great care in smoothing and 



214 ABOUT RATS. 

cleaning his far. The skin of the black rat 
bears some value with the furriers; the dressed 
skins of brown rats are excellent for thumbs of 
kid gloves; their fur is used for making hats. 



BIRDS. 



215 



About Swallows. 



Branch — YerUbrata. — Having a back bone. 

Class — Aves. — Birds. 

Order — Insessores. — Perchers. 

Tribe — Fissirostres. — Having bills deeply cleft. 

Family — EirundinidcB. —Swallow-like. 




HEN Summer comes the Swal- 
lows come. In far off south- 
ern lands they have escaped 
the cold of our dreary winter 
months, and have found, while 
wandering, an ever present 
spring time. ISTow, whole 
flocks are sweeping about us, 
darting through the air with a swift flight 
which almost eludes our sight. With most of 
the small birds, the Swallows migrate, going to 



1 2 ABOUT S WALLO WS. 

warm climates in the autumn, and returning to 
cooler countries in the spring. A few may- 
creep into hollow trees, and pass the winter in 
a torpid condition, like frogs and bears. At 
one time it was supposed that they found winter 
quarters in the water, at the bottom of streams 
and ponds. People imagined this because they 
did not see the Swallows on their journey, like 
the pigeons and geese. But if we remember 
that their usual rate of flying is a mile in a 
minute, or more than twice the ordinary speed 
of railway trains, and that, in the day time, they 
are almost always on the wing, we see that these 
little creatures may pass in a few days even from 
the arctic regions to the torrid zone. 

"Yet," says Wilson, "it is forced, when win- 
ter approaches, to descend to the bottom of 
rivers, lakes and mill-ponds, to bury itself in the 
mud, with eels and snapping-turtles, or to creep 
mgloriously into a cavern, or a rat-hole, or a 
hollow tree, there to doze with snakes, toads, 
and other reptiles, until the return of spring ! 
The geese, the ducks, the cat-birds, and even 



THEIR HABITS. 1 3 

the wren, which creeps about our out-houses in 
summer like a mouse, are acknowledged to be 
migratory, and to pass to southern regions at 
the approach of winter; the Swallow alone, on 
whom Heaven has bestowed superior powers of 
wing, must sink in torpidity to the bottom of 
rivers, or doze all winter in the caverns of the 
earth ! " 

The habits of the Swallows are, perhaps, more 
easily observed and more generally known than 
those of almost any other birds. The air is, 
indeed, their home. They eat, drink, and even 
feed their young, while on the wing. The beak 
is very short, broad at the base, much flattened, 
and deeply cleft, forming a large scoop-like 
mouth, with which they gather up insects as 
they fly. They are fond of skimming along 
within a few inches of the smooth surface of 
water, sipping and flying. Their feet are short 
and weak, but their wings, when compared with 
the size and weight of their bodies, are remark- 
ably large and strong. Their nests are usually 
made of mud, strengthened with twigs, hair, 



14 ABOUT SWALLOWS. 

and the like, and they are fond of building 
about dwellings and barns, probably for greater 
safety from birds of prey. 

The Swallows all feed upon insects, and take 
their food in the air. At times they fly at a 
great height, so that they seem like tiny dots 
upon the sky; at other times they sweep over 
the ground, or near the water, chasing the gnats 
which come up in myriads from the surface. 

The largest of this family is the Australian 
Needle-tailed Swallow, or Swift, Acanthylis cau- 
dacuta. It has the name Needle-tail on account 
of its curious tail-feathers. These are short and 
even, and have no web near the end, so that 
they form a row of short, sharp points. 

Mr. Gould, in his "Birds of Australia," says: 
" So exclusively is this bird a tenant of the air, 
that I never, in any instance, saw it perch, and 
but rarely sufficiently near the earth to admit 
of a successful shot; it is only late in the even- 
ing, and during lowery weather, that such an 
object can be accomplished. With the excep- 
tion of the crane, it is certainly the most lofty, as 



HIGH-FLYING. IS 

well as the most vigorous flier of the Australian 
birds. I have frequently observed, in the mid- 
dle of the hottest days, while lying prostrate on 
the ground, with my eyes directed upwards, the 
cloudless blue sky peopled at an immense height 
by hundreds of these birds, performing exten- 
sive curves, and sweeping flights, doubtless 
attracted thither by the insects that soar aloft 
during serene weather. Hence few birds are 
more difficult to obtain, particularly on the con- 
tinent of Australia, where droughts are so prev- 
alent; on the contrary, the flocks that visit the 
moister climate of Van Dieman's Land, where 
the} 7 must seek their food nearer the earth, are 
often greatly diminished by the gun. 

"We may naturally conclude that both rocks 
and holes in the larger trees are selected for 
their nests, as well as for a resting-place during 
the night. Before retiring to roost, which it does 
immediately after the sun goes down, the Spine- 
tailed Swallows may be seen, singly or in pairs, 
sweeping up the gullies, or flying with immense 
rapidity just above the tops of the trees, their 



i6 



ABOUT SWALLOWS. 



never-tiring wings enabling them to perform 
their evolutions in the capture of insects, and of 
sustaining them in the air during the entire day 
without cessation.*' 

The general color of this bird is olive brown, 
washed with a dark green tinge upon the back 
of the head, the wings, and the tail. Before the 
eyes there is a dark velvet patch, and most of 
the under part of the body is white. Its length, 
when its wings are closed, is twenty-eight inches, 
and twenty inches to the end of the tail. 

The "White-bellied, or Alpine Swift, Cypselus 
melba, is about eight inches long, and spreads 
its wings about eighteen inches, yet its weight 
is barely one ounce. Its general color is sooty 
black, its chin and throat being white. It 
builds its nest in crevices of high cliffs or build- 
ings, and makes it of straw, hay. moss and other 
things, firmly cemented together with a kind of 
saliva. It lays four or five long, white eggs. 

Another, the Common Swift, of England, 
Cypselus apus. is called, by the English boys, 
"Jacfcy Screamer." This bird usually makes 






"JACKT SCREAMER." \*J 

its home in holes in rocks, or in hollow trees, 
or in the thatched roofs of houses, " For- 
merly," says Wood, " when all the less pretend- 
ing houses were covered with thatch, the Swifts 
had their nests in every roof, and the ' Jacky 
Screamers ' used to hunt for flies in the streets, 
and boldly carry their prey to their young. 
The houses were so low that a man could touch 
the eaves by standing in a chair, and the habits 
of the birds were easily watched. Their nests 
were frequently robbed, but the birds seemed to 
care little for the bereavement, and quietly laid 
another couple of eggs. I seldom found more 
than three eggs in a nest." 

The structure of its feet enables the Swift to 
scramble through the tunnel leading to its nest 
with great speed. It is most interesting to see 
it wheel about in the air, utter its sharp cry, 
answered by a little complacent chirrup from 
its mate within the nest, then dart into its hole 
as if shot from a bow, closing its wings as it 
enters the tunnel, and then scramble away with 
a quick and sure gait. 



1 8 ABOUT S WALL O WS. 

The Barn Swallow, of America, Hirawdo 
horreorum, is about seven inches long, the wings 
five inches ; the tail is verv much forked. 
Its color is steel-blue above, and reddish-brown 
beneath. It loves to build in barns, and the 
farmers often leave holes in the gables for its 
entrance. Its nest is made in the form of 
an inverted cone, with a slice cut off on the 
side by which it sticks to the rafters. At the 
top it has a kind of shelf, on which the bird 
sits occasionally. The shell is made of mud 
mixed with fine hay, as plasterers mix hair with 
mortar to make it less brittle; the mud is about 
an inch thick, placed in regular layers. The 
inside is filled with fine hay, well stuffed in, and 
covered with a handful of downy feathers. 
These birds are very social, and often twenty 
or thirty nests may be seen so close together 
that a finger could hardly be laid between them. 
The farmers have a superstition that ill luck 
will come to a person who kills one of them ; 
and some think that a building which they take 
possession of will not be struck by lightning. 



THE CHIMNEY SWALLOW. 1 9 

At all events, their sprightly warble makes 
even the rudest barn cheerful and homelike. 

The American Chimney Swallow, Acanthylis 
pehsgia, is peculiar to this continent, and is 
quite different from its English name-sake, 
Hirundo rustica. These Swallows reach the 
Northern States about the middle of May or 
the first of June, and dwell wherever there are 
chimneys convenient for their purpose. Since 
they always choose a chimney for their home, 
some may ask what they did before white men 
built chimneys. In those sections of the coun- 
try which are unsettled, they occupy tall, hollow 
trees, called Swallow-trees; but wherever there 
are settlements, the Swallows forsake the woods 
They are more secure from birds of prey, they 
have better room for their sweeping flights, and 
they find a better surface, to which the material 
of their nests may adhere. 

Their nests are made of very small twigs, 
fastened together with a strong adhesive glue, 
secreted by two glands on each side of the head, 
and mingled with the saliva. They are small 



20 ABOUT SWALLOWS. 

and shallow, and adhere by one side of the wall ; 
they want the soft lining which is found within 
the nests of many other birds. The eggs are 
generally four, and two broods are often reared 
in a season. The noise which the old birds 
make in passing up and down the flues, has 
some resemblance to distant thunder, or in the 
silence of the night brings to persons with weak 
nerves suggestions of robbers. During heavy 
and long continued rains the glue sometimes 
fails to hold the nest, and, with its contents, 
it drops to the bottom of the chimney. If eggs, 
they are, of course, destroyed; the young birds, 
if there are any, often scramble up the sides of 
the flue, holding on by their toes, and are fed 
in this position for some time. 

This Swallow is distinguished, when in the 
air, by its long wings, short body, the quick 
vibration of its wings, and its wide, unexpected, 
diving flight, shooting swiftly in various direc- 
tions with no apparent motion of its wings, and 
uttering quickly its hurried tsip, tsip, tsip, (see, 
(see. It is very gay in damp weather, at the 



THE SAND MARTIN. 21 

approach of rain, and after a passing shower ; 
it is out early in the morning and late at night. 
Early in September these birds assemble in con- 
vention, about some lofty tree or tall spire, 
wheeling about and chirping as busily — and as 
much to the purpose — as a party of politi- 
cians — perhaps nominating a mayor or gov- 
ernor — and then they take their flight for a 
warmer clime. 

A very interesting member of this family is 
the Sand Martin, or Bank Swallow, Gotile 
riparia. In size, this bird is one of the smallest, 
being less than five inches long. Its color is 
soft brown, with black wing and tail feathers; 
the under surface is white. One would hardly 
expect to find the home of so graceful and deli- 
cate a bird in the ground, but with its sharp 
bill it manages to dig a burrow, where much 
larger four-footed creatures would fail. It 
makes its hole in any sandy soil, but most loves 
a light sandstone, because its work keeps best 
shape in that. The depth of the burrow varies 
from two to five feet, but the end is usually 



22 ABOUT SWALLOWS. 

beyond the reach of the arm. Generally it is 
quite straight ; should a root or stone be in the 
way it winds about it, or, if the obstacle is too 
large, the bird leaves the hole and begins again. 
In all cases it slopes gently upward, so that any 
water which comes in may easily run out. 

The bird sets at work in a very workman- 
like way. It first taps several places with its 
beak, until it finds one which will suit. Then 
it turns on its legs as a pivot, working all round 
a centre, and chipping out a very regular circle, 
and so pushes on, clinging equally well to roof 
or sides, and going back and forth with the 
greatest ease. The nest at the end is globular, 
and lined with a few bits of soft substance — hay, 
moss or feathers. The eggs are very small and 
delicate. When new laid they are pink, but 
afterwards become white. 

The voice of the Sand Martin is a weak twit- 
ter; when the birds are plenty their chirping 
may be heard at quite a distance. When it is 
angry or frightened it pours forth a harsh 
scream. It does not tolerate other birds in the 



THE PURPLE MARTIN. 2 3 

vicinity of its home, and a mob of Sand Martins 
will even drive away a hawk. They usually 
make their burrows in the bank of a stream or 
lake, where they may find a supply of food in 
the insects which swarm about the water, and 
their numbers often suggest the countless 
swarms about an immense bee-hive. . 

The Purple Martin, Progne purpurea, is found 
throughout America, from the Gulf of Mexico 
to Hudson's Bay. It loves to build about human 
habitations; even the Indians respect it, and 
contrive homes for it by hanging gourds about 
their wigwams. The more civilized farmer 
provides neat boxes which he fastens on the top 
of the house, or on tall poles. Sometimes the 
Martins presume in their familiarity and drive 
the pigeons out of their houses. But, wherever 
they find a home, they are very constant in 
their attachment, making but one nest, and 
returning to it year after year. 

Where a pair of Martins have established 
themselves they will allow no other larger 
bird to dwell. A hawk, a crow, or a jay, 



24 ABOUT S WALL O WS. 

which presumes to intrude, is pounced upon 
without mercy, and so tormented that he is glad 
to escape. Even the eagle is no exception; and 
it is a curious fact that though the Martin will 
fly at the king-bird, it will join with the king- 
bird to chase away the eagle. Its flight is so 
rapid that it has nothing to fear from the talons 
of the larger bird, and so it attacks him in 
safety. The color of the bird is a rich, deep, 
very glossy purple, the wings and tail being 
black. It lays from four to six eggs, and brings 
out two broods in a year, the male and female 
each sitting on the eggs in turn. 

A beautiful species, found in Australia, called 
the Fairy Martin, Hirundo ariel, is one of the 
most ingenious of the bird-builders. Its nest is 
shaped like an oil flask, and made of mud and 
clay, which the bird kneads thoroughly with its 
beak. Several birds build at one nest, one stay- 
ing inside and shaping the mortar which the 
others bring to him. In pleasant daj^s the birds 
work only in the morning and evening, because 
the mud dries before they can mould it prop- 



AMERICAN SWALLOW. 25 

erly, but in rainy weather they keep at work 
all day. The necks of these bottles are from 
seven to ten inches long, and the bulb or nest is 
from four to seven inches in diameter. The 
outside is rough, like the nests of the common 
Swallow, but the inside is beautifully smooth. 
Sometimes these mud-flasks are fastened to a 
house, in rows under the eaves; sometimes they 
are placed upon the steep face of a cliff, and 
then hundreds may be seen close together, with- 
out the slightest order, the necks sticking out 
in all directions. They are always near water, 
but not near the sea. 

An American Swallow builds a nest quite 
like that of the Fairy Martin. This is called 
the Rufous, or Red-Necked Swallow, Hirundo 
fulva; it is sometimes called the Republican 
Swallow, because it gathers in large companies. 
The nests have a wider and shorter neck than 
those of the Fairy Martin. Towards night 
these birds gather in large flocks, calling to 
each other, so that at a distance their flight 
seems like a moving cloud. Suddenly this 



26 



ABOUT SWALLOWS. 



cloud seems to gather, and then descend in a 
spiral, like a water-spout. When within a few 
feet of the bushes, they scatter in all directions, 
and settle upon the branches. When day 
dawns they rise again, after flying low over the 
water, and then move away after food in differ- 
ent directions. The hunters knock them down 
in great numbers with the short paddles used 
with their canoes. 

The Palm Swift, Tachornis phoenicobia, of 
Jamaica, is marked even when flying by a 
broad white band across its black body. It 
builds in the hollow places about the leaves in 
the tops of the cocoa-nut palm, using a silky 
kind of cotton, which it felts together with a 
sort of slimy fluid. The nests are fastened 
upon the under surface of the palm-leaves, and 
are so hidden that they would not be easily seen, 
if the bird were not sometimes so liberal of its 
material as to betray itself. Several nests are 
found together. They are fastened to each 
other by the same substance, which glues them 
to the leaf, and are connected by a gallery 



EDIBLE BIRDS-NESTS. 2>J 

which runs along the side and opens into eadh 
nest. 

Nearly all the swallows which we have 
described make their nests by glueing together 
mud or sticks, or some fibrous substance, by 
the saliva which is formed in the bird's 
mouth. Some Swallows build entirely of this 
substance, and the nests, when made, are 
gathered, cleansed, and sold to the Chinese, 
tvho esteem them a great dainty for the table. 
There are four species of these makers of edible 
birds-nests. The nests are irregular in shape, 
are attached to each other, and are so rudely 
made that one can scarcely determine where 
the eggs were to be laid. They are always 
placed upon the side of a perpendicular rock, 
and are gathered by men who are lowered by 
ropes from above. The nests which have been 
used by the birds to rear a brood of young 
bring but a low price, while those that are 
quite new and white are worth their weight in 
silver. The nests are gathered three times a 
year, and at each gathering care is taken to 



28 ABOUT S WALLO WS. 

destroy all the old and discolored nests, in orde\ 
to force the birds to make new ones; this laboi 
occupies them about two months. Europeans 
think the nests rather insipid food, and of no 
great value. The trade in them is very large, 
amounting to more than fifty thousand pounds 
a year, worth nearly a million of dollars. 

Although we have described by no means al! 
the varieties of this very interesting family, the 
most important of them have been mentioned. 
We are not attracted to them by their plumage, 
although when we examine that we find theii 
colors exceedingly rich and lustrous. Theii 
song has little variety or harmony. We do 
admire their graceful forms, and their swift and 
airy motions. "We love these birds for their 
activity in their own way of doing good; for 
their regular and constant return to old homes 
and familiar haunts; and for the confiding trust 
with which they love to build and live about 
our dwellings. 




THE BOB-0-LIXK. Doliehomyx orizivorus* 



About Blackbirds. 



Vbrtebrata. — Aves. 

Order — Insessores. — Perchers. 

Tribe — Conirostres. — Having cone-shaped bills. 

Family — Icteridce. — From Latin, icterus. 




WIDE-AWAKE, noisy, impu- 
dent fellow is the Blackbird. 
He comes quite early in the 
Spring, and as you pass some 
spreading tree in the pasture, 
or skirt along the willow copse 
by the meadow, you see that he 
has brought with him his whole 
family, and all his acquaintances. The brush 
is black with them, and they all seem in earnest 
debate, rising, and perching, and chattering 



32 ABOUT BLACKBIRDS. 

incessantly; and then, all on a sudden, away 
flies the whole flock. You knew they were 
countless, out, as they fly, it seems as if the 
largest half of them had been in ambush, or 
had sprung out of the ground. 

Like the " crane and the swallow," the Black- 
birds " know the time of their coming." Before 
they leave the southern states they gather in 
numbers which are almost incredible. On one 
occasion, in the month of January, Wilson says 
he met in Virginia, on the Roanoke River, a 
prodigious army of these birds. They rose from 
the surrounding fields with a noise like thunder, 
and, descending on the length of road before 
him, covered it and the fences completely with 
black; when they again arose, and, after a few 
circles, descended on the skirts of the high-tim- 
bered woods, at that time destitute of leaves, 
they produced a very singular and striking 
effect; all the trees for a considerable dis- 
tance, from the tops to the lowest branches, 
seemed as if hung in mourning ; the notes 
and screaming of the birds meanwhile resem- 



THE PURPLE GRAKLE. 33 

bling the distant sound of a great cataract, 
but in more musical cadence, swelling and 
dying away in the air, according to the fluc- 
tuation of the breeze. 

This bird is known among us as the common 
Crow Blackbird, and is often called by natural- 
ists the Purple Grakle, Quiscalus versicolor. At 
a distance his plumage appears jet black, but 
on a nearer view it is found to be a very dark 
purplish green, with glossy reflections of steel 
blue, dark velvet, and metallic copper. The 
male is about twelve inches long, and eighteen 
in expanse of wing. The female is somewhat 
smaller, but similar in color. 

The Blackbird feeds either upon seeds or 
insects. In the Spring he frequents swamps 
and meadows, and follows the furrows of the 
plow, even scratching in the ground for grubs 
and other insects which would do the farmer 
much harm. But when the tiny green shoots 
of the corn peep through the soil, he knows 
very well that there are nice soft grains beneath, 
and so, after his own fashion, he takes his pay 



34 ABOUT BLACKBIRDS. 

for the grubs he has slain. When the corn is 
in the milk the Blackbirds descend again upon 
the fields like a blackening, sweeping tempest. 
They strip off' the husk as dexterously as if by 
the hand of man, and having laid bare the corn, 
leave little but the cobs. For these reasons it 
is hardly strange that the farmers think the 
Blackbird a pest, and make him an outlaw, in 
peril from the pelting of every idle, roving boy. 
Most small birds are afraid of the larger 
kinds, and if a hawk or eagle show himself, 
they either hide themselves or try to drive him 
away, relying upon force of numbers or swiftness 
of wing. The Blackbird, however, is a curious 
exception, for it actually builds its nest in com- 
pany with the Osprey, or Fish-hawk. The nest 
of the Osprey is a large mass of sticks, grass, 
leaves and similar materials. The foundation 
is made of sticks as large as broom-handles, 
and two or three feet long; on these similar 
sticks are piled, until the heap is some four or 
five feet high. These are interwoven with corn- 
stalks, straw, sea-weed, or leaves, the whole 



THE BLACKBIRD'S NEST. 35 

mass being enough to load a cart. The birds 
occupy the nest year after year, even until the 
tree decays and falls to the ground. 

The Blackbirds build their nests in the 
spaces between the sticks which form the nest 
of the Osprey. There, like vassals round the 
castle of their chief, they live and rear their 
young. Wilson found no less than four such 
nests about the nest of one Osprey, and a fifth 
on the nearest branch of a neighboring tree. 
Of course all the Blackbirds cannot build in 
Ospreys' nests. Most occupy tall trees, gener- 
ally in companies of fifteen or twenty. The 
nests are made of mud, roots and grass, and 
are lined with fine dry grass and horse-hair; 
they are about four inches deep, and contain 
five or six dull green eggs, spotted with olive. 

The Red-winged Blackbird, Agelaius phoeni- 
ceus, is found throughout the United States ; it 
passes the winter in the south, and returns 
north early in the spring. The Red-wings fly 
in flocks, which rival in numbers, and in rapid 
and erratic motion, those of the common Black- 



36 ABOUT BLACKBIRDS. 

bird; indeed, the two birds often migrate 
together. On the wing they enliven their way 
with mutual chatter, and as genial Spring comes 
with them, we are glad to see them, although 
we know they will pull up corn. Their music 
is a compound of liquid, jingling notes, mingled 
with the jarring sounds of filing saws and 
creaking sign-boards, the whole uttered in 
downright earnest, and forming a curious con- 
cert of harmony and discord. 

"Assembled in their native marshes," says 
Kuttall, " the male, perched on the summit of 
some bush surrounded by water, in company 
with his mates, now sings out, at short inter- 
vals, his gutteral kong-quer-ree, sharply calls 
t'lsheah, or, when disturbed, plaintively utters 
tftshay ; to which his companions, not insensible 
to these odd attentions, now and then return a 
gratulatory cackle, or reiterated chirp, like that 
of the native meadow-lark. As a pleasant and 
novel, though not unusual accompaniment, per- 
haps the great bull-frog elevates his green head 
and brassy eyes from the stagnant pool, and 






THE RED- WINGS NEST, 37 

calls out in loud and echoing bellow, 'w'ttoo^ 
'warroo, 'worrorroo, 'boarroo, which is again 
answered, or, as it were, merely varied, by the 
creaking or cackling noise of his feathered 
neighbors." 

The Red-wing usually builds its nest in some 
swamp, or marsh, abounding with alders. In 
these, and sometimes in a detached bush, in a 
tussock of rank grass in the meadow, the nest 
is curiously wrought with the long dry leaves 
of meadow grasses, and the slender blades of 
the flags, carried round the stalks of the 
leaves for support, and carefully interwoven. 
The meshes of this basket are filled with rotten 
wood, roots of grass, peat, and mud, making, 
when dry, a substantial shell, which is lined 
with fine dry stalks and rushes. The eggs are 
five in number, pale blue, spotted near the 
large end with light purple and dark brown. 
The male bird is about nine inches long. His 
color is deep glossy black, with bright scarlet 
over the shoulders. Most of the plumage of 
the female is black, the feathers being edged 



j8 ABOUT BLACKBIRDS. 

with reddish, or yellowish brown, so that she is 
curiously mottled. The young are marked like 
the female, and do not put on the entire gay 
livery of the male until several years old. 

Because the Red-wing is so fond of corn he 
is considered an intolerable nuisance, and is 
killed by every possible means. But there is 
another side to this story. What can the mul- 
titudes of these birds eat, after the corn is too 
large to pull, and before the ears are grown ? 
During all the spriug and summer they feed on 
little else but insects, choosing especially those 
which devour the young leaves of growing 
crops. Whether a grub be buried in the earth, 
eating away the root of a plant, or concealed 
among the the thick foliage, which it destroys, 
or boring a passage in the trunk of a tree, the 
Ked-wing finds it, and eats it, or takes it to his 
young. "Wilson examined the crops of many 
of these birds, and calculated that, upon the 
average, each bird destroyed fifty grubs daily, 
and, probably, twice that number. The num- 
oer of insects, then, which these birds will eat 



THE COW BLA CKBIRD. 39 

in a single season, is beyond conception, and 
they ought to be cherished, rather than 
destroyed. In all the eastern states, grain, 
fruit, and, in fact, every kind of crop which 
farmers raise, suffer immense injury, and are 
often utterly ruined by insects, which the birds 
would take care of if the farmers were wise 
enough to let them. 

The Cow Blackbird, or Cow Troopial, 
Molothrus pecoris, enters the northern states 
about the first of April ; about the middle of 
July it disappears again and is not seen until 
September, when it re-appears for a short stay 
before it goes south. It feeds upon worms and 
grubs, following the plow with the Red-wings 
and Crow Blackbirds, and is often busy about 
cattle, picking up the insects which they hap- 
pen to disturb. 

Unlike most other birds, the Cow-bird never 
pairs, and makes no nest ; it lays its eggs in 
the nests of other birds and leaves them to 
their fate. The strangest part of this is, that 
the poor bird upon whose charity the egg haa 



4° ABOUT BLACKBIRDS. 

been thrust, takes charge of it, and brings up 
the young bird hatched from it in preference to 
her own. 

The following anecdote, by Doctor Potter, 
shows that the Cow-bird creeps slyly into the 
nests of other birds, and that even the most 
peaceable will sometimes resent the injury: 

" A blue-bird had built for three summers 
in the hollow of a mulberry tree near my dwell- 
ing. One day, when the nest was nearly done, 
. a Cow-bird perched upon a stake fence near, 
her eyes apparently fixed upon the spot, while 
the builder was busy upon her nest. The 
moment she left it, the intruder dashed into it, 
and in five minutes returned and flew away to 
her mates with noisy delight, which she 
expressed by her actions and tones. The blue- 
bird soon returned and entered the nest, but at 
once fluttered back with much hesitation and 
perched upon the highest branch of the tree, 
uttering a rapidly repeated note of complaint 
and anger, which soon brought her mate. They 
entered the nest together, and returned a sec- 



5 TOLEN NES TS. 4 1 

ond time, uttering a continual complaint for ten 
or fifteen minutes. The mate then dashed 
away as if in search of the offender, and fell 
upon a cat-bird, which he chastised severely, 
and then attacked an innocent sparrow that 
was chirping its ditty in a beech-tree. After 
all this, the Cow-bird was found to have laid 
another egg next day." The observation was 
not continued, for a snake found the nest and 
destroyed its contents. 

The egg is usually laid in the nest of some 
smaller bird, as the red-eyed flycatcher, the 
blue-bird, the chipping sparrow, or the golden 
crowned thrush. The egg of the stranger is 
hatched first. The great size of the intruder 
soon stifles the rightful heirs, and the parent 
bird carries away its own dead young to make 
room for the foundling; they are not found 
under the nest where they would have dropped 
if the little Cow-bird had shouldered them out. 
As soon as he is fledged the graceless little fel- 
low deserts his foster parents and skulks about 
the woods, till, after a time, he instinctively 



4 2 ABOUT BLACKBIRDS, 

joins those of the same feather, proving the 
adage. 

This bird is about seven inches long. The 
head, neck and breast is light chocolate brown ; 
the rest of the body black. 

But the most lively and cheeryble member of 
this family is called the Rice Troopial, Doli- 
chonyx oryzivorus. In the southern states he is 
called the Rice-bird ; in the middle states, the 
Reed-bird, or Reed-bunting; but all through the 
north he is known as the Bob-o-link, or Bob- 
linkum. These birds begin their journey from 
the south in March, and go leisurely along, fast 
or slow, as they find supplies, until May, or 
early June, finds them just taking possession of 
the meadows from Massachusetts to the Missis- 
sippi, all through the northern states. 

"June's bridesman, poet o' the year, 
Gladness on wings, the Bob-o-link, is here; 
Half-hid in tip-top apple-blooms he sings, 
Or climbs aginst the breeze with quiverin' wings, 
Or, givin' way to *t in a mock despair, 
Runs down, a brook o' laughter, thro* the aire" 



THE BOB-O-LINK. 43 

" O rapture ! sunshine winged and voiced, 
Pipe blown through by the warm wild breath of the West, 
Shepherding his soft droves of fleecy cloud, 
Gladness of woods, skies, waters, all in one, 
The Bob-o-link has come, and, like the soul 
Of the sweet season vocal in a bird, 
Gurgles in ecstasy we know not what 

Save June ! Dear June ! Now God be praised for June t M 

— Lowell. 

The male has put on his wedding suit, black, 
trimmed about the head, shoulders and back 
with white. He is in excellent spirits, and 
pours forth incessant strains of lively music 
from every bush and fence. As he flits from 
tree to tree, by short fluttering sweeps, hover- 
ing over the field, he utters a jingling medley 
of sounds, rapid, constant and confused, which 
seem hardly possible from the throat of a 
single bird. Almost every listener translates 
his song variously. All know his opening 
strain, bob 'lee, bob 'link, bob 'Unkee, bob 'link, but 
every school-boy hears his own mischievous 
pranks described in the jargon that follows, 
and every blushing girl knows he is the " little 



44 ABOUT BLACKBIRDS. 

bird that tells." But summer rolls on, and 
Robert of Lincoln finds a family upon his 
hands. He becomes more sedate. The gay 
white slashing of his coat is exchanged for the 
brownish yellow livery of his mate, and instead 
of his joyous spring-time song, he can only 
whistle bob 'lee, — bob 'lee, which soon becomes 
only 'weet 'weet, Vleet, b'leet He is about six 
inches long. 

Madam Bob-o-link hides her nest very care- 
fully and successfully in the thick grass. A 
nest which is before the writer just fills a paper 
collar-box, four inches in diameter, and two 
inches deep. It is merely a mass of short stalks 
and leaves of dried grass, hollowed out at the 
top. The six tiny eggs in it are about three- 
fourths of an inch long, quite pointed at the 
smaller end, pearly-white, and spattered with 
brown, spots, which are largest and thickest at 
the broad end of the egg. 

Like the other birds of this family, the Bob- 
o-links feed mostly upon insects, but, at harvest, 
show a decided taste for grain and corn. About 



WAO TEACHES THE BIRDS? 45 

the middle of August they begin to migrate 
southwards. They are found in large flocks 
along the reedy shores of the Delaware, fatten- 
ing upon the fields of wild rice, and many of 
them are taken for the markets of Philadelphia 
and New York. As the season advances they 
go on, and passing through the rice swamps of 
the Carolinas, become the Butter-birds of the 
West Indies. 

Who taught these birds of the air to take 
their annual journey ? How do they know the 
time of their flight? Who shows them the 
route from their winter homes in the sunny 
south to their summer mansions in the meadows 
and forests of the north ? Who taught them to 
build their nests? Who tuned their varied 
song ? These questions rise concerning all our 
summer birds, and though we can not tell how 
they learn to trace their way from one old 
haunt to another, we know that the same Being 
who painted their beautiful plumage, and tuned 
their melodious song, gave them an instinctive 
knowledge which forces them to do that which 



46 ABOUT BLACKBIRDS. 

is fitting at the right time and in the right way. 
Having no choice, no will, no reason, they can 
not go wrong, but work out their results 
according to the plan which their Creator 
designed. 



THE OTJNCON FAMILY. 

A flock of merry singing-birds were sporting in the grove; 
Some were warbling cheerily, and some were making love ; 
There were Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Winterseeble, Con- 

queedle, — 
A livelier set were never led by tabor, pipe, or fiddle, 
Crying, " Phew, shew, Wadolincon, see, see, Bobolincon, 
Down among the tickletops, hiding in the buttercups ! 
I know the saucy chap, I see his shining cap 
Bobbing in the clover there, — see, see, see ! " 

Up flies Bobolincon, perching on an apple tree, 
Startled by his rival's song, quickened by his raillery. 
Soon he spies the rogue afloat, curvetting in the air, 
And merrily he turns about, and warns him to beware ! 
" 'Tis you that would a-wooing go, down among the 

rushes O ! 
But wait a week, till flowers are cheery, — wait a week, and, 

ere you marry, 



THE a LINCON FAMILY. 47 

Be sure of a house wherein to tarry ! 

Wadolink, Whiskodink, Tom Denny, wait, wait, wait!" 

Every one's a funny fellow; every one's a little mellow; 
Follow, follow, follow, follow, o'er the hill, and in the 

hollow ! 
Merrily, merrily, there they hie ; now they rise and now 

they fly; 
They cross and turn, and in and out, and down in the 

middle, and wheel about, — 
With a "Whew, shew, Wadolincon, listen to me, Bobo- 

lincon ! 
Happy's the wooing that's speedily doing, that's speedily 

doing, 
That's merry and over with the bloom of the clover! 
Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Winterseeble, follow, follow me." 

Oh ! what a happy life they lead, over the hill and in the 

mead! 
How they sing, and how they play ! See, they fly away, 

away! 
Now they gambol over the clearing, — off again, and then 

appearing ! 
Poised aloft on quivering wing, now they soar, and now 

they sing : — 
" We must all be merry and moving; we must all be happy 

and loving; 
For when the midsummer has come, and the grain hae 

ripened its ear, 



4§ ABOUT BLACKBIRDS. 

The haymakers scatter o*ur young, and we mourn for the 

rest of the year; 

Then Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Wmterseeble, haste, haste 

away* 

— Atlantic Monthly- 




THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. Picua pubeacena. 



About Woodpeckers, 



Vbrtebrata. — Aves. 

Order — Scansores. — Climbers. 

Family — Pieidce. — From pious, a Woodpecker. 




AT-TAT-TAT. Rat-iat-tat-tat Do 
you hear him ? There he is, on 
the dead top of that old oak 
tree. Here he comes, with his 
curving sweep, and lights on the 
trunk of this rock-maple. Now 
he sees you, and puts the tree 
between you and him, for safety. 
If you go round to see him, he goes round too, 
just peeping about the side, to keep you in one 
eye, while with the other he peers into every 



52 ABOUT WOODPECKERS. 

cranny in the bark, into every old knot-hole or 
decayed spot, for any worm or grub which may 
have hidden itself away. Back he goes, and is 
hammering away again at that old tree, scoop- 
ing out a nest for himself and his family. A 
brisk, busy, wide-awake bird, this Woodpecker, 
and one that will amuse you if you watch him 
closely. 

His feet are not like those of most birds. The 
toes point, two before and two behind, and so, 
like the two hooks which grasp the ends of a 
barrel and lift it in the air, these hooks hold to 
the bark of the tree and allow the bird to run 
up or down, or hold on and hammer away at 
his leisure. His tail is armed with stiff pointed 
feathers, and while he clings with his claws this 
tail serves as a brace, the stiff quills resting 
against the bark and holding him up. His 
beak is hard, and sharp pointed. His tongue 
is upon the end of a long bone which divides 
at the throat, passes on each side of the neck 
and then unites as;ain and goes on over the 
back of the head and the forehead, almost to 



THEIR NESTS. 53 

the base of the b^ak. By this means he caai 
thrust out his tongue an inch or two beyond his 
beak, and spear an insect on its barbed point, 
as a fisherman spears a fish. Such as are too 
small to be harpooned thus, are caught by a 
slimy saliva which moistens the tongue. 

The Woodpecker does not build a nest; he 
burrows. With his ivory beak he bores a hole 
in the body of a tree, usually finding some spot 
where the wood is decayed, and then, when he 
has reached the heart of the tree, he continues 
the burrow downwards, enlarging it into a con- 
venient pocket. Here the eggs are laid, on no 
other bed than the few chips whkh the bird has 
not taken the trouble to remove. Sometimes 
the nest is entered by the wren, who allows the 
Woodpeckers to go on until he thinks the hole 
large enough for his purpose, and then drives 
them out and takes possession. At other times 
the black snake glides up the trunk, enters the 
burrow of the bird, eats up the eggs or young, 
and makes itself at home. 

"The eager school-boy," says Wilson, 
Q 



54 ABOUl WOODPECKERS. 

"after risking his neck to reach the Wood- 
pecker's hole, at the triumphant moment 
when he thinks the nestlings his own, and 
strips his arm, launching it into the cavity, 
and grasping what he conceives to be the 
callow young, starts with horror at the sight 
of a hideous snake, and almost drops from his 
giddy pinnacle, retreating down the tree with 
terror and precipitation. One adventure of 
this kind was attended with serious conse- 
quences, where both snake and boy fell to the 
ground, and a broken thigh cured the adven- 
turer of his ambition for robbing Wood- 
pecker's nests." The nest of the Woodpecker, 
unlike those of most other birds, is exceed- 
ingly filthy, the smell being almost beyond 
human endurance. 

Some twenty-five species of Woodpeckers are 
found in America, and others are known in all 
quarters of the globe. Of the American varie- 
ties, one of the best known is the little Downy 
Woodpecker, Pieus pubescens. This bird is 
about six inches long. His head is velvety 



THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. 55 

black on the crown, and scarlet on the back, 
with a white streak over the eye. The back is 
black, marked with a stripe of doymy white 
feathers. The wings and tail are black, spotted 
with white. The female has no scarlet on 
the head. 

Because this bird digs holes in the bark of 
fruit trees, people wrongly suppose that he 
injures the tree, and therefore kill him. 

Wilson says : " In the fall he is particularly 
fond of boring the apple trees for insects, dig- 
ging a circular hole through the bark just suffi- 
cient to admit his bill; after that a second, 
third, etc., in pretty regular circles round the 
body of the tree. These circles of holes are 
often not more than an inch apart, and some- 
times so close together that I have covered 
eight or ten of them with a dollar. From near 
the surface of the ground to the first fork, and 
sometimes far beyond it, the whole bark of 
many apple trees is perforated in this manner, 
so as to appear as if made by successive dis- 
charges of buck-shot; and our little Wood- 



56 ABOUT WOODPECKERS. 

pecker is chiefly guilty of this supposed mis- 
chief. I say supposed, for they are not only 
harmless, J>ut really good for the health and 
fertility of the tree. In more than fifty orchards 
which I have myself examined, those trees 
which were marked by the Woodpecker were 
uniformly the most thriving and productive. 
Many were upwards of sixty years old, theii 
trunks completely covered with holes, while the 
broad branches were loaded with fruit. Of 
decayed trees, more than three-fourths were 
not touched by the Woodpecker." 

The largest American bird of this family, 
and the handsomest, is the Ivory-billed Wood- 
pecker, Campephilus principalis. This bird is 
about twenty-two inches long. His general 
color is black, glossed with green. A white 
stripe runs down the sides of his neck and 
along his back, tipping the feathers of the 
wings. The back of his head is adorned with 
a beautiful scarlet crest. His beak is long, 
ivory white, and nearly an inch broad at the 
base. 



THE IVORY-BILLED WOODPECKER. 57 

When he has been at work upon a tree, he 
leaves a heap of bark and chips, by which he 
may be known as an active workman. Large 
strips of bark are torn off, and the wood is 
pecked with holes as if a steel tool had been 
used. Yet the bird only attacks the decayed 
wood, to reach the grubs and worms within, 
leaving the sound wood untouched. 

Like the others of the family, this bird digs 
his nest in the substance of the tree. The 
opening is carefully placed under some branch, 
that the driving rain may not enter ; the hole 
is bored inwards a few inches, and then turns 
downward, extending from ten inches to nearly 
three feet. The diameter of the nest is about 
seven inches, but the opening is only large 
enough to admit the bird. 

His note, when caught or wounded, resem- 
bles the cry of a young child. Mr. Wilson 
caught one near Wilmington, and took it to 
town in the box of his carriage. The cries of 
the bird attracted much attention, and the 
landlord at the hotel looked rather surprised 



58 ABOUT WOODPECKERS. 

when Mr. Wilson asked for care for himself 
and his baby. The bird was locked up in a 
room, and Mr. W. went to look after his horse. 
When he returned he found the Ivory-bill 
mounted on the side of the window; he had 
broken off the plaster from a space about 
fifteen inches square, had cut a hole through 
the lath, and was fast working his way into the 
outer boarding of the house. In an hour 
longer he would have escaped. A string was 
tied to his leg and he was fastened to the table. 
While his captor was gone to find him some 
food, he attacked the mahogany table, and 
completely ruined it. He would not take food, 
and in a few days died. 

The Indians honor the bold and fiery dispo- 
sition of this bird, and carry its head and beak 
as one of their charms or " medicines." It is 
never found in cultivated tracts, but dwells in 
the lonely forest, among the largest trees, in 
the dim recesses of the cypress swamps. 

Another well known species is the Red- 
headed Woodpecker, Melanerpes erythrocephalus. 



THE RED-HEADED WOODPECKER. 59 

This is one of the commonest birds, bold and 
not afraid of the society of man. He is as 
active in boring for insects as any other, while 
it must be confessed that he does some mischief. 
Wherever a tree, whether of cherry, peach, or 
apple, bears particularly good fruit, he is at 
hand to taste the earliest and the ripest, and if 
caught in the act, he thrusts his bill into the 
best specimen at hand and flies away with it, 
uttering a loud exulting scream. He likes to 
find his way through the husks into the rich, 
milky ears of Indian corn. Towards autumn 
he comes about the farmhouses and barns, and 
one often bears his lively tattoo on the shingles. 
On account of his pranks in the garden he 
is much disliked, and a bounty is sometimes 
offered for his head. But, like other birds 
which are in bad odor, it may be a grave ques- 
tion whether, after all, he does not do more 
good than harm — whether he takes more than 
toll for the fruit he has helped to save. He is a 
gay fellow, and his bright colors contrast finely 



6o 



ABOUT WOODPECKERS, 



with the green foliage, as he sweeps from tree 
to tree. 

The head and neck are scarlet, and the upper 
parts of the body black, with a steel-blue gloss; 
a broad band across the wings and the lowfcr 
half of the back is white. As the bird flies he 
looks as if he wore a white gown, with a black 
mantle over his shoulders, and a scarlet hood. 
He is about nine inches long. His note is 
shrilly and not unlike the cry of a tree-frog. 

The Golden-winged Woodpecker, or Yellow- 
hammer, Colaptes auratus. This bird comes on 
the first bright days of Spring. He is a brisk 
creature, skipping about the tree trunks with 
great activity, running up or down, or spirally, 
either at play or in search of food. He may be 
tamed, but must be kept in a strong wire cage, 
without any wood, or he will, like the Ivory- 
bill, make a speedy escape. Even then his 
incessant hammering, begun at early dawn, 
will make too much racket for ears which 
would enjoy ordinary quiet. 

He is about twelve inches long. His general 



ENGLISH WOODPECKERS. 6 1 

color is olive brown, with bands of black, and 
a black crescent on the breast; the lower parts 
are yellowish white, with black spots ; the 
under surface of the wings and tail gamboge 
yellow. He has a crescent of red on the back 
of the head. 

The most common English Woodpecker is 
the Green Woodpecker, Gecinus viridis. The 
boys call him Rain-bird, Wood-spite, Hew-hole, 
and Wood-wall. 

Another is known as the Great Spotted 
Woodpecker, Picus major. Their habits are 
too nearly like those already mentioned to 
require description. 







THE CROWNED PIGEON. G aura cor onata. 



About 



? 



OYES. 



Vertebrata. — Ayes. 

Order — ColuniboB. — Latin, Columba, a Dove. 




bird is more generally beloved 
than the Dove. The domestic 
Doves which throng about our 
dwellings attract us by their grace- 
ful forms, their delicate plumage, 
and their soft, liquid notes. Their 
wild relatives are loved as well for 
all these qualities, and for their 
gentle and constant affection for each other. 
The youngest child stretches out his hand in 
delight for the cooing dove. The maiden loves 
to feel it nestle in her bosom, a willing pris- 



66 



ABOUT DOVES. 



oner — to smooth its snowy plumage, and allay 
its rising fear. The mother finds a type of her 
own maternal fondness in the care of the Dove 
for her young, and the sorrowing mourner 
hears her own woes re-echoed in the sad moan 
of the Turtle-dove, bewailing her murdered 
mate. All through the Winter, when other 
birds have flown to sunnier lands, the glancing 
wings and rushing sweep of the flying Doves 
enliven the chilly scene, while at all seasons 
their presence, coming and going, gentle, 
harmless, familiar, makes the day, and the 
home, more cheery and sunshiny. 

"With few T exceptions their flight is swift, and 
they can continue it for a long distance. The 
family is found in nearly all parts of the world, 
but is most abundant in warm climates. The 
colors of those best known to us are soft and 
delicate, rather than deep or brilliant, though 
some parts, especially the feathers about the 
neck, glow with changeful beauty. In warmer 
lands their plumage is varied with the most 
beautiful colors, and elegant forms. 



THE ROCK DOVE. 67 

All the birds of this order have a double 
crop. In this receptacle the food is mingled 
with a milky juice, until the mass becomes sofl 
and pulpy ; a portion of this is raised into th( 
beak and fed to the young. 

The first species which we will mention ia 
the Rock Dove, Columba livia. It has this 
name because it frequents rocks rather than 
trees; even the young which escape from the 
dove-cot, and from broods which for many 
generations have never known any thing but 
wooden houses, build in rocky caverns rather 
than in trees. The general color of the wild 
Rock Dove is some shade of gray ; the neck 
and throat are varied with changing hues of 
green and purple; the wings are barred with 
black. 

From the Rock Dove have sprung all the 
many varieties of domestic Doves. Indeed, 
these birds can hardly be called tame, or 
domesticated. For the rocky cave, to which 
the bird's nature directs him, man substitutes 
a wooden box, and the Dove takes possession 



08 



ABOUT DOVES. 



of it, very much as the martin occupies the 
box provided for him, and as the chimney 
swallow builds in a place constructed by man. 
The management of the dove-cot has become 
quite an art, and may be made profitable from 
the great number of young pigeons which are 
continually produced. It is said that a dove- 
house is best in the form of a circular tower. 
The rows of boxes should be so arranged 
aboat the inside that the partitions in one row 
of boxes may stand over the openings of the 
range beneath. The tower should be so large 
that a person standing in the centre can con- 
veniently reach the boxes. A horizontal shelf, 
covered upon the under side with sheet iron, 
should be placed below the boxes to prevent 
rats from climbing up for the eggs or young 
birds. The boxes should be high enough to 
allow the bird to stand when feeding its young, 
and each box should have a platform before it, 
and be closed in front, with a hole just large 
enough for the bird to enter. This will prevent 
other Doves from disturbing the rightful tenants 



FANCY PIGEONS. 69 

when sitting. When the young birds are of 
proper age, those which the keeper wishes to 
mate should be shut up together, and in a short 
time they become so attached that only death 
or removal will divorce them. The Dove 
hatches a pair of eggs every month. The eggs 
are laid in three days, and hatched in fifteen 
more; the female sits by night, and the male 
during the day. When the young Doves, called 
squabs, are hatched, they require warmth for 
about three days, and are fed after this for 
about ten days, although they are sometimes 
found in the nest until the next brood is 
hatched. 

Several curious varieties have been reared by 
pigeon fanciers, some of which are so unlike, 
that one would hardly recognize them as kin- 
dred. The Broad-tailed, or Fan-tailed Shaker, 
has a large number of feathers in its tail, which 
it spreads like a turkey, and shakes like a pea 
cock. This pigeon flies awkwardly, and is apt 
to be overset or carried away by the wind. The 
Jacobin Pigeon has a frill of raised feathers, 



7° ABOUT DOVES. 

beginning at the back of the head and extend- 
ing down the sides of the neck, which resem- 
bles the hood worn by monks. Its head, wings 
and tail are always white; the other parts are 
often reddish brown, or fawn-colored, and 
sometimes white. The birds which are all 
white are most prized. A very curious variety, 
called the Pouter, or Cropper, has a way of 
puffing out his crop with air, until it is larger 
than himself. When the crop is inflated the 
other Doves sometimes strike it with their 
bills, and pierce a hole through the thin wall, 
thus causing the poor bird's death. The habit 
is unnatural and is likely to cause disease, so 
that the variety is not much esteemed. There 
are many other kinds, as Nuns, Owls, Barbs. 
Turbits, Horsemen, etc. 

The Carrier Pigeon is also considered a 
variety of the Common House Dove. All 
pigeons are very fond of home, and have a 
wonderful pow T er of finding their way back to 
their mates, when they have been separated. 
The remarkable feats of the Carrier Pigeon 



CARRIER PIGEONS. 7 1 

have been made famous in prose and verse. In 
the wars of the ancient Romans, and during the 
Crusades, these birds were used to carry news 
from the inhabitants of besieged cities. Some- 
times they were caught by the hawks of the 
besieging army, and the message fell into hands 
different from those intended. In later times 
Pigeons carried news of markets, and such 
items as are now sent by telegraph. In Turkey 
sentinels were posted in wooden towers at reg- 
ular distances of thirty or forty miles, and the 
Pigeons flew from tower to tower. They wore 
about their necks little boxes of very thin gold, 
in which the messages were carried. After 
steamships crossed the ocean, Pigeons took the 
news from Halifax to Boston ; when vessels 
arrived off Sandy Hook they were announced 
in New York in the same way. 

To train the birds for this service, they are 
first carried in a bag or basket about half a 
mile from home, and then let go. This is done 
several times, and then the distance is increased 

to two, four, ten or twenty miles, until they 

R 



7 2 ABOUT DOVES. 

will return from any place. The message is 
written upon the finest of thin paper, and 
fastened with a pin to a feather under the wing, 
or ti^d with a string to the leg. The birds fly 
about twenty-five miles an hour. In foggy 
weather they are often lost; and when the 
ground is covered with snow they do not find 
their way easily. When starting, they rise to a 
great height, hover for a while in an undecided 
manner, and then, as if they had found the 
way, dart off like an arrow. 

The Turtle Dove has always been regarded as 
the emblem of tender affection , from its gen- 
eral behavior, and from its gentle soothing 
note. The sacred writers loved the bird as 
coming with the Spring: "For the time of 
the singing of birds is come, and the voice of 
the Turtle is heard in our land." The Ameri- 
can Turtle, or Carolina Pigeon, Columba Caro- 
linensiSy is generally known throughout the 
United States. Its flight is quick and strong, 
and marked by a peculiar whistling of the 
wings, different from that of the wild pigeon. 



THE TURTLE DOVE. 73 

This bird is a favorite with all who wander in 
the forest, and listen to its mournful music. It 
has four notes; the first is high and seems to 
prepare for those which follow, three long, 
deep moanings, which win the sympathy of 
every hearer. After a few minutes' pause, the 
same mournful strain is repeated. The song, 
after all, is not mournful, but is a call of love, 
similar to those which have made the whole 
family celebrated. 

The nest is rudely constructed of a handful 
of twigs, covered with fibrous roots, and con- 
tains two white eggs. The bird is about 
twelve inches long; its colors, above, brown- 
ish drab; below, pale olive. 

Audubon describes a beautiful Dove which 
lives upon the small islands called Keys, about 
the coast of Florida. Its cooing is so peculiar 
that any one asks "what bird is that?" A 
man, who had once been a pirate, said that 
the soft and melancholy cry of this Dove, heard 
about the wells which the pirate crew had dug 
in one of those Keys, awakened in his heart 



74 ABOUT DOVES. 

feelings of penitent sorrow. So deeply was ho 
moved by the notes of the bird, the only sooth- 
ing sounds he had heard while in his wild 
career, that he determined to desert his ship 
and try to escape. He returned to the well, 
and listening to the cooings of the Zenaida 
Dove, he praj^ed for mercy, and became again 
^n honest man. 

This bird places her nest on the ground, 
sometimes very carelessly, and at other times 
closely covered with tufts of grass. When sit- 
ting, she seldom leaves her nest, unless some 
one tries to catch her; then she waits and 
watches until the hand is almost on her, and 
she is off in a twinkling. The Zenaida is 
about the size of the Turtle Dove ; plumage 
above, light brown, tinged with gray; under- 
neath, brownish red, also passing into gray. 

The Passenger Pigeon, of America, JEdopistes 
migratorius, is the most remarkable member of 
this whole family, on account of the untold 
numbers of the flocks in which it moves from 
place to place. Both Audubon and Wilson 



FLYING PIGEONS. 75 

give accounts of them which are almost too 
wonderful to believe. Audubon left his home, 
in Kentucky, one morning, and as the Pigeons 
were flying very thickly, sat down to count the 
flocks as they passed. He put down a dot for 
each flock, and in twenty-one minutes had 
noted one hundred and sixty-three dots. He 
went on his way, and at night reached Louis- 
ville, fifty -five miles distant, but the Pigeons 
were yet flying, and so continued for three 
days ! " A hawk chanced to press upon the 
rear of a flock. At once, like a torrent, and 
with a noise like thunder, they rushed into a 
compact mass, pressing upon each other toward 
the center. In these solid masses they darted 
forward in indulating and angular lines, 
descended and swept over the earth with 
inconceivable velocity, mounted perpendicu- 
larly so as to resemble a vast column, and 
when high were seen wheeling and twisting 
within their continued lines, which then resem- 
bled the coils of a gigantic serpent." If one 
wished to see the scene repeated, he had only 



7^ ABOUT PIGEONS. 

to wait until the next flock came up, when it 
would follow through the same movements. 

" As soon as the Pigeons discover suflfrcient 
food to entice them to alight, they fly in circles, 
reviewing the country below. During the evo- 
lutions on such occasions the dense mass which 
they form exhibits a beautiful appearance as it 
changes direction, now displaying a glistening 
sheet of azure, when the backs of the birds 
come together into view, and anon, suddenly 
presenting a mass of deep, rich purple. They 
then pass lower, over the woods, and for a 
moment are lost among the foliage, but again 
emerge and are seen flying aloft. They now 
alight, but the next moment, as if suddenly 
alarmed, they take to wing, producing by the 
flapping of their wings a noise like the roar of 
distant thunder, and sweep through the forest to 
see if danger is near. Hunger, however, soon 
brings them to the ground. "When alighted 
they are seen industriously throwing up the 
leaves in quest of fallen mast. The rear ranks 
are continually rising, passing over the main 



THEIR NESTING PLACES. 77 

body, and alighting in front, in such rapid suc- 
cession that the whole flock seems still on the 
wing. The quantity of ground thus swept is 
astonishing, and so completely has it been 
cleared that the gleaner who might follow in 
the rear would find his labor completely lost. 
Whilst feeding, their avidity is so great at 
times that in attempting to swallow a large 
acorn or nut they are seen gasping a long 
while, as if in the agonies of suffocation." 

The same author visited a nesting place of 
the Pigeons, on Green River, in Kentucky. It 
occupied a part of the dense forest, where the 
trees were large and the underbrush scanty, 
and extended over a space forty miles long and 
three miles wide. The birds had been there 
about two weeks, and a large number of people 
from all directions had encamped near the 
border. Some had come more than an hun- 
dred miles, and had driven their hogs to fatten 
upon the Pigeons. Towards night every body 
prepared to receive the flock with pots of 
burning sulphur, torches, poles, and guns. 



7 8 ABOUT PIGEONS. 

" Suddenly there burst forth a general cry of 
4 Here they come.' The noise which they 
made, though yet distant, reminded me of a 
hard gale at sea, passing through the rigging 
of a close reefed vessel. As the birds passed 
over me I felt a current of air that surprised 
me. Thousands were soon knocked down by 
the pole-men ; the birds continued to pour in, 
the fires w 7 ere lighted, and a most magnificent 
as well as wonderful and terrifying sight 
presented itself. The Pigeons arriving by 
thousands alighted every where, one above 
another, until solid masses as large as hogs- 
heads were formed on the branches all around. 
Here and there the perches gave way with a 
crash, and falling on the ground destroyed 
hundreds of the birds beneath, forcing down 
the dense groups with which every stick was 
loaded. 

" It was a scene of uproar and confusion ; no 
one dared venture within the line of devasta- 
tion ; the hogs had been penned up in due 
time, the picking up of the dead and wounded 



WHAT THET EAT. 79 

being left for next morning's employment. 
The Figeons were constantly coming, and it 
was past midnight before I perceived a decrease 
in the number of those that arrived. Towards 
the approach of day the noise in some measure 
subsided ; long before objects were distinguish- 
able the Pigeons began to move off in a direc- 
tion quite different from that in which they had 
arrived the evening before, and at sunrise all 
that were able to fly had disappeared. The 
howlings of the wolves now reached our ears, 
and the foxes, lynxes, bears, raccoons and opos- 
sums were seen sneaking off, whilst eagles and 
hawks of different species, accompanied by a 
crowd of vultures, came to supplant them and 
enjoy their share of the spoil." 

This Pigeon feeds on mast, which includes 
beechnuts, acorns, and chestnuts, and on all 
varieties of grain, seeds, and berries. The 
amount which such enormous flocks consume 
must be likewise enormous. Wilson describes 
a flock of Pigeons a mile wide and two hun- 
dred and forty miles long, aud assuming that 



80 ABOUT PIGEONS. 

there were three birds in every square yard, 
and that each bird eats half a pint of food a 
day, their daily rations would amount to seven- 
teen million bushels. For this reason their 
range of feeding must be very great, or they 
would soon leave famine behind them. They 
can the more easily extend their flight by their 
large and strong wings, so that in a few hours 
they may have removed to a distant land. One 
was shot, in the State of New York, whose crop 
was full of rice, which he must have gathered 
in the rice swamps of Carolina, and which 
could not have been in his crop more than six 
hours without being changed more than it was. 
The distance must have been at least three 
hundred miles, so that his speed could not 
have been less than fifty miles an hour. When 
settlements have become numerous, and the 
Pigeons have been much hunted, the large 
flocks become scattered, and the birds are shy. 
The length of the wild Pigeon is about six- 
teen inches, but the long pointed tail occupies 
quite a portion, and the actual size is rathei 



THE OCEANIC FRUIT PIGEON. 



8l 



less than that of the common Dove. The 
plumage is bluish-gray above; the breast is 
reddish-brown ; the neck is shot with gold, 
green, and purplish crimson; the wings and 
tail are edged with white. Two or three 
broods are hatched each season, each brood 
consisting of a male and female. 

A beautiful bird is found in the Pelew 
Islands, called the Oceanic Fruit Pigeon, Car- 
pophaga oceanica. It is a forest bird, and is 
veiy fond of the mace, or outer covering of 
the nutmeg. This food gives its flesh a very 
delicate aromatic flavor, which makes it in 
great demand. During the nutmeg season it 
becomes very fat, so that it even bursts open 
when brought down by the gun. Besides its 
value for food, it is very useful in planting the 
nutmeg tree. It swallows the nutmeg, with 
its covering, but only the mace digests, and the 
nut is not only uninjured as it passes through 
the bird's stomach, but it is With difficulty 
made to grow in any other way ; when planted 



82 ABOUT PIGEONS. 

by man it must pass through a peculiar prepa- 
ration to make it come up. 

This bird wears a singular knot at the base 
of the upper part of the beak, about the size 
and shape of a cherry. The plumage of the 
back is light green; the throat and breast are 
rusty gray, and the neck gray, shot with blue. 
The length is about fourteen inches. 

The most conspicuous of the family is the 
Crowned Pigeon, Gaura coronata. It is a 
native of Java, and New Guinea. It is very 
large, and its crest gives it an appearance 
quite unlike the rest of the pigeons. It has 
a majestic gait, and a queer habit of lying in 
the sun with its wing stretched over itself, stiff", 
and spread like a tent. Its cry is loud, and 
sounding, like a mixture of trombone and 
drum, and when it utters its note it bows so 
low as to sweep the ground with its crest. 

In the Mauritius, about two hundred and 
fifty years ago, the Dutch voyagers found a 
large bird which naturalists have classed with 
the Pigeons. This bird the old Dutchmen 



THE DODO. 83 

called Dod-aers, meaning bird-that-wallows, 
and the word has been contracted to Dodo. 
The species has long since vanished, and now 
nothing is left to prove that it ever lived, 
except a few drawings, and the head and feet 
of a single specimen. 

One voyager wrote of it : " It hath a great 
ill-favored head, covered with a kind of mem- 
brane resembling a hood ; a bending, promi- 
nent, fat neck; an extraordinary long, strong, 
bluish-white bill. Its gape, huge, wide, as 
being naturally very voracious. Its body is 
fat and round, covered with soft, gray feathers, 
after the manner of an ostrich. It hath yellow 
legs, thick, but very short; four toes in each 
foot; solid, long, as it were scaly, armed with 
strong black claws. The flesh, especially the 
breast, is fat, esculent, and so copious that 
three or four Dodos will sometimes suffice to 
fill one hundred seamen's bellies." 

They were so plentiful at one time, and so 
easily killed, that the sailors were in the habit 
of slaying them for the stones found in their 



?4 ABOUT PIGE ONS. 

stomachs, which the men used to sharpen their 
clasp-knives. 

In this instance an entire race of creatures 
has vanished from the earth, within the mem- 
ory of man. The records of the rocks show 
that many other species, even entire orders of 
animals, have disappeared in like manner. So 
also other races have been created and placed 
in such circumstances as were adapted to their 
growth and preservation. Each species has 
had the form, the clothing, the habits which 
the Creator gave it at its beginning of life, 
and no instance has ever been found in which 
one tribe, or family, or species, has gradually 
changed and developed into another. 



.. -r 







About Crows. 



Order — Insessares. — Perchers. 

Tribe — Conirostres. — Having cone-shaped bills. 

Family — Corvidce. — Latin, Cormis, a Crow. 




>OME we now to a family of 
birds which seldom find favor 
with man. In the first place 
they are black, and there has 
always been a certain fool- 
ish and groundless prejudice 
against any creature which 
wears that sombre color; — a 
black sheep is the derision of the flock; a black 
cat is the fit confidant of a witch; the prince 
of evil is painted black, though some have 



88 



ABOUT CROWS. 



thought him not so black as he is painted; 
a black man is hardly admitted to the rights of 
manhood ; the only exceptions are dogs and 
horses; — and Crows are black. In the next 
place, in the great variety of things which fur- 
nish them a living, they persist in eating cer- 
tain items which man claims as his, and denies 
their right to, particularly corn. Besides, some 
of them like meat which has been kept too 
long, that is, longer than man keeps that which 
he eats, and they eat it without cooking, or 
seasoning. Lastly, they are very cunning, and 
when man sets a price on their scalps, they 
contrive to keep their heads as much out of 
his reach as they can, even helping each other, 
while they jeer at him, and call after him, and 
ridicule him, with their hoarse crow laughter, 
for thinking he can catch them. So people 
give them bad names, deem them birds of foul 
omen, and will not recognize the good they 
do, in spite of all the ill usage they endure. 
For it is manifestly absurd that a bird should 
wear black, eat corn, like high-flavored flesh, 



THE RAVEN 89 

and avoid a gun, unless he has something sin- 
ister and wicked in his nature. 

The first of these birds is the Raven, Corvus 
corax. He lives alone, in the wildest regions 
he can find, preferring a hilly country. He 
finds a home in all quarters of the globe, from 
Japan, through Europe, to America, and even 
in the coldest arctic winter, when wine freezes 
near the fire, he flies, croaking his hoarse cry, 
as carelessly as if the weather were that of 
returning spring. His food is mostly animal, 
and is not chosen with much care. In his long 
flight, if he pass a sheep or lamb which is sick, 
or has a broken leg, or lies floundering in the 
mire, he takes pity on it, and then picks its 
bones. Although very cunning, he may be 
brought within gun-shot, if one will lie on his 
back in an exposed place, — without moving, 
for, "though glad to find others carrion, or to 
make carrion of them, he takes good care that 
none shall make carrion of him. But if you 
lie on your back, he will come, you know not 
whence, and hovering round you on slow wing, 



9° ABOUT CROWS 

examine you on all points. If you do not stir 
he will drop down at a little distance and begin 
to hop in a zig-zag fashion, bringing his shoul- 
ders forward alternately. Sometimes he will 
utter his ' cruck-cruck,' and pause to see if 
that makes you stir, and if it does not, he 
moves on faster." 

The Raven also eats all kinds of small game, 
and of birds; even the spines of the hedge- 
hog will not protect from him. In the west he 
follows the hunter to feed on the offal of the 
game. 

His craft is well illustrated by an anecdote 
related by Captain McClure, the arctic discov- 
erer. Two Ravens were often seen about the 
ship, where she was frozen into her winter 
quarters, As the refuse of a meal was thrown 
out for the dog, the Ravens w r ould put them- 
selves in his way, as if inviting him to make 
his supper of them. The dog would run at 
them, and they would fly just out of his reach; 
then he would make another run, and so they 
tempted him on, until he was quite a distance 



MISCHIEF OF RAVENS. 9 1 

from the ship. Then they would fly back to 
the meat, and devour quite a portion before the 
dog could see the joke and rush back again. 

The Raven is often captured while young, 
and tamed, but he makes a most troublesome 
pet. Unless placed where he can do no possi- 
ble harm, he will get through more mischief 
in an hour than a squad of boys in a day, 
and he sets about his work as gravely, and" 
labors as earnestly and persistently, as if he 
had a duty to do, which he was paid for and 
could not morally neglect. One used to watch 
a gardener while training some choice plant. 
The bird would sidle up to it, as if he did not 
see it, and with one wrench of his strong beak 
would lay it flat on the ground. The lady who 
owned the garden declared that the Raven was 
possessed by an evil spirit. He would follow 
behind her, and, as she turned, would still hop 
behind, so that she could never see him. His 
mischief could not be borne, and he was killed. 

Another was an adept at fighting dogs. When 
the dog made a rush upon the bird, it would 



9 2 ABOUT CROWS. 

step backward, and at the same time deliver 
a sharp blow with its pointed beak upon the 
dog's nose. A second rush would be parried 
in the same style, and so on until the dog 
could endure no more, and gave up. Another 
Raven was equally skillful in fighting cocks. 
When his enemy made the attack he would 
quickly step aside and avoid the blow, until at 
a convenient moment he would suddenly end 
the combat by biting off his antagonist's head. 
The Raven was the first bird sent from the 
Ark, after the Deluge, which did not return ; 
perhaps that was the same 

" Ghastly, grim and ancient Raven, 
Wandering from the nightly shore," 

which Poe saw in his delirious dream; which 

: ' Perched above a bust of Pallas, 
Just above my chamber door, 
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.' 

The ancient Romans connected many super- 
stitions with the Raven. They watched his 
manner of flying, and from that pretended 



THE CARRION CROW. 93 

to foretell if a journey would be safe or suc- 
cessful. They thought that a man who should 
eat the heart of a Raven would become a 
soothsayer. 

How much pleasanter the remembrance 
that the Ravens fed Elijah in his hiding place 
beyond the Brook Cherith, bringing him 
" bread and flesh in the morning, and bread 
and flesh in the evening." 

The Raven is about two feet long, and is 
really a handsome bird. His color is a uni- 
form blue-black, with green reflections. His 
beak is high, round and knife-shaped, and 
surrounded at the base with bristles. Instances 
have been known where he has lived to the 
age of seventy or eighty years without show- 
ing any signs of old age. 

Next of kin is the Carrion Crow, of Europe, 
Corvus corone. This is the bird the poets sing 
of, and is quite different from our Ameri- 
can Crow. In habits he is much like the 
Raven. He got the prefix " carrion " because 
they said he would eat such food, and very 



94 ABOUT CROWS. 

likely he would yet if he could find it, but, 
instead, he has usually to make his living upon 
reptiles, frogs, small birds, and whatever he 
can get. He often visits the sea-shore for the 
shell-fish which he can pick up, and if the 
shell is too hard, he takes it up with him, and 
drops it upon a rock to break it. He flies 
only with his mate, and builds his nest upon 
some tall tree, often near some dwelling. He 
is about eighteen inches long, and wears a 
black and very glossy coat, with reflections of 
purple above, and of green beneath. 

The American Crow, C. Arnericanus, is 
smaller than his English namesake, and is 
not, like him, solitary, but gathers in flocks. 
He is about seventeen inches long; his color is 
glossy blue-black. About the middle of March 
the Crows begin to build their nests, usually in 
some high tree. They are made of sticks, 
bark, and moss, compacted with mossy earth, 
and are lined with quite a quantity of horse- 
hair, cow-hair and wool. On this soft and 
elastic bed are laid four pale-green eggs, 



THE AMERICAN CROW. 95 

spotted with olive. When the female is sit- 
ting the male watches about her and brings 
her food, while both restrain their noisy 
chatter. 

In May and June the Crow does most mis- 
chief, pulling up the corn as it comes up. in 
the fields, so that the farmer has often to plant 
his ground a second or even a third time. For 
this he gets no mercy. The myriads of mice, 
beetles, caterpillars and grubs which he has 
destroyed are forgotten. He is an outlaw and 
must be executed. But first to catch him. In 
vain the gunner ranges for him, steals along 
the hedges, or hides in ambush. Some sen- 
tinel Crow, perched on a high tree, gives the 
alarm, and, far and near, the Crows answer 
and fly. When the man is gone, and the coast 
is clear, they return and finish their meal. 

The persecution of the Crow makes him 
very crafty. The farmer often posts in the 
middle of his field an effigy of a man, made 
of a ragged suit, stuffed with straw, but the 
Crow understands that well enough. He does 



9^ ABOUT CROWS. 

not fear a live man unless he carries a gun, 
and as for a straw man, — he will stand on his 
shoulder and pick the oats out of his ear. 
Sometimes a wind-mill is contrived to make 
a constant clatter upon a tin -pan, but the 
Crow soon gets used to that, — he can make 
more noise himself. But when the farmer 
stretches strings hither and thither across his 
fields the Crow is in doubt. There is some 
mystery about those lines which he can not 
fathom, and his caution keeps him out of 
the way. 

In some states rewards have been offered 
for killing Crows, as for destroying panthers, 
wolves and foxes. They have been caught 
with clap-nets, and poisoned with drugged 
corn. Some have been taken with pieces of 
paper rolled up into cones, and smeared inside 
with bird-lime. A kernel of corn is put in the 
bottom of the cone, and when the Crow puts 
his head in, to take the corn, the lime glues the 
paper to his face, and shuts his eyes. One 
farmer exposed a dead horse near his barn. 



THE GOOD THEY DO. 97 

As the crows gathered he shot them from a 
hiding place within, and so killed more than 
six hundred during the winter. The bounties 
on Crows and the price of the quills nearly 
paid for the horse, and the feathers filled a 
feather bed! 

Yet, says Audubon, " The Crow devours 
myriads of grubs, every day in the year, that 
might lay waste the farmer's fields. It 
destroys quadrupeds innumerable, every one 
of which is an enemy to his poultry, and to 
his flocks. I can but wish men would 
reflect a little, and become more indulgent 
toward our poor, humble, harmless, and even 
most serviceable bird, the Crow." 

In particular, the Crow is very fond of the 
" cut-worm " which does so much mischief by 
eating off corn, and other vegetables, just at 
the surface of the ground. There are hardly 
any of our insect-eating birds, which, at 
times, do not find it necessary to eke out their 
living with grain, chiefly corn. For this 
offence, eastern farmers have waged war upon 



9^ ABOUT CROWS. 

birds of all kinds to such an extent that their 
numbers have been much diminished, and, as 
a result, the number of harmful insects is very 
much increased. A quantity of English Spar- 
rows was lately imported into New York to 
destroy the insects, but if our native birds 
could live unmolested, they would do all that 
is needed, and if they can not live, the spar- 
rows will be likely to suffer the same fate. 

The Crow is easily tamed, and then his true 
genius begins to be known. He soon learns 
all the members of the family, and screams at 
a stranger; can open a door by alighting on 
the latch ; is very regular at breakfast and din- 
ner, recollecting punctually the hour; is very 
noisy and talkative; can speak words quite 
distinctly ; is a great thief, and hider of curi- 
osities, secreting in holes and odd corners 
every article he can carry away, particularly 
small pieces of metal, corn, bread, and other 
kinds of food. A story is told of one which 
lived for some time in a family, and at length 
disappeared. It was supposed that he had 



THE ROOK. 99 

been shot. About eleven months after, while 
his master was standing by the river, one of a 
flock of Crows, which passed by, alighted on 
his shoulder and began to gabble away with 
great earnestness, as if he had found an old 
friend. The gentleman recognized the bird, 
and made several attemps, in a quiet way, to 
lay hold of him ; but the Crow was too wary 
to be caught, and flew away after his com- 
panions. 

A somewhat noted bird of this family is the 
Rook, (7. frugilegus. This bird seems to be 
hated by English farmers quite as the Crow is 
hated by Americans, and the warfare between 
them is conducted in very much the same way. 
The farmer puts up scarecrows and racket- 
mills, and shoots the Rook when he can, while 
the Rook picks up the farmer's corn, bores 
holes in his turnips, eats his chickens, and 
keeps shy of his gun. The naturalists admit 
that the bird does some mischief, but contend 
that he does a great deal more good. They 
insist that he cares more for the wire-worm at 



IOO ABOUT CROWS. 

the root of the corn, than for the kernel, and 
that the worm would kill that shoot and many 
more. They prove that he consumes many 
beetles, both in their perfect state, and while 
they are grubs, and that both beetles and grubs 
are very destructive. So the Rooks seem to 
have the best of it, after all. 

They live in colonies, many thousands some- 
times finding a home on the trees of a single 
park. They pile sticks together into large 
and rather clumsy nests, and gather some softer 
material on which to lay their eggs. In these 
bird-towns there seems to be certain unwrit- 
ten laws which the birds understand and obey. 
One law forbids any Rooks from dwelling in 
the limits of the town, except those born 
there ; another forbids young Rooks from 
locating at a distance. Either crime provokes 
a conflict which ends in the destruction of the 
nest of the guilty parties. The old birds con- 
tinue to use their nests year after year, clean- 
ing them a little each Spring. The young 
ones, just beginning to keep house, have to 



COURTS OF JUSTICE. IOI 

build for themselves. If the young birds 
build too near the old ones, it creates trouble, 
and the intruders have to move. 

The Rooks are also said to hold courts for 
the trial of offenders. Some morning a great 
noise is heard in the rookery. The birds 
gather upon a few trees, and one, who sits by 
himself, with drooping head, seems to be the 
center of the disturbance. After much croak- 
ing, and flying hither and thither, in which 
may easily be imagined the examination of 
witnesses, the pleas of advocates, the charge 
of a judge, and the verdict of a jury, the 
birds fall upon the culprit and execute sen- 
tence of death. They particularly punish such 
lazy and dishonest Rooks as will not go away 
and bring sticks for their own nests, but stay 
at home and rob the nests of others. They 
are so intelligent as to observe the marks made 
on the trees which are to be cut for timber, 
and will not build, or allow the young birds 
to build on them. 

They entice the young birds from the nest 



102 ABOUT CROWS. 

as soon as they can flutter to another tree. 
For a little time they return to the nests to 
roost, but soon leave, and are gone during the 
Summer. In Autumn they return again, and 
sometimes make a few repairs upon their nests, 
but their voices have acquired a softened tone, 
and their meeting seems rather a mournful 
procession revisiting old scenes, than the noisy 
and busy throng of Spring. In a few days 
they are gone again for the Winter. 

The Rook is about nineteen inches long ; 
color, blue-black, glossed with purple. He 
may be distinguished from the Crow by a bald 
place on his forehead, and also at the base of 
the neck, where the feathers do not grow 
again after the first moulting. 

The Jackdaw, C. monedula, is another Eng- 
lish bird of this family, of infinite wit and 
humor. "When wild he has many of the 
habits of the Rook. The greetings which 
Mudie describes between a flock of Rooks and 
one of Jackdaws, would make it appear that 
they understand each other. " When the 



THE JACKDAW. IO? 

cawing of the Rooks on their mornino; flight 
was heard, the Jackdaws, which had previously 
been still and quiet, instantly raised their 
shriller notes, and flew to join the Rooks, 
both parties clamoring loudly, as if welcom- 
ing each other ; and on the return the Daws 
accompanied the Rooks a little past their 
home \ then both cawed their farewell and 
departed. What is more singular, I have seen, 
too frequently for its being merely accidental, 
a Daw return for a short time to the Rooks, a 
Rook to the Daws, or one from each race meet 
between, and be noisy for a space after the 
bands had separated. With the reason I do 
not interfere, not being in the secrets of either 
party ; but the fact is as certain as it is 
curious." 

In captivity the Jackdaw is a very amusing 
bird, and learns some very curious tricks. 
Wood says of one : " He was imitative in the 
extreme, and more than once had put the 
house in danger by his passion for lighting 
friction matches, of which amusement he was 



104 ABOUT CROWS. 

as fond as any child. On one occasion he 
lighted the kitchen fire in the course of the 
night. The cook had laid the fire over night, 
intending to apply the match early in the 
morning. The Jackdaw contrived to get hold 
of the match-box, and had evidently rubbed 
the match upon the bars, and so set fire to the 
combustibles, as the cook found the fire nearly 
out, the Jackdaw in the kitchen, and some 
eighteen or nineteen exploded matches lying 
in the fender. 

" The first time that this Jackdaw lighted a 
match he was so frightened at the sharp crack- 
ling report that he ran away as fast as he could 
go, coughing and sneezing after his fashion 
from the fumes of the sulphur, he having held 
the match close to the phosphoric end. He 
never seemed to distinguish the ignitible end 
of the match, and would rub away with great 
perseverance on the blank end, without dis- 
covering the cause of his failure. By degrees 
he contrived to singe all the feathers from his 



AFRAID OF THUNDER. IO5 

forehead and nostrils, and once burned his foot 
rather severely. 

" He was greatly afraid of thunder, and had 
a singular power of predicting a coming storm. 
In such a case, he would retire to some favorite 
hiding place, generally a dark hole in the wall, 
or a cavity in an old yew which exactly con- 
tained him, and would there tuck himself 
into a very compact form so as to suit the 
dimensions of his hiding place, his body being 
tightly squeezed into the cavity, and his tail 
projecting along the side. In this odd position 
he would remain until the storm had passed 
over, but if he were called by any one whom 
he knew, his confidence would return, and he 
would come out of his hole very joyously in 
spite of the thunder, crying out, ' Jack's a 
brave bird!' as if he entirely understood the 
meaning of the sentence. He may possibly 
have had some idea of the words, for he hated 
being called a coward, and would resent the 
term with all the indignation at his com- 
mand." 



io6 



ABOUT CROWS. 



The nest of the Jackdaw is rudely made in 
a hole of some decayed tree or old building. 
His general color is black, marked on the back 
of the head and nape of the neck with gray. 
He is fourteen inches long. 

There are many more birds belonging to 
this large and interesting family, which are 
worthy of uotice, but we shall only speak of 
one, the Magpie, Pica candata. This bird is 
common in Europe, and in the south-western 
parts of the United States. His food is as 
various as that of the Crow. He is a constant 
robber of birds'-nests, eating the young, or 
stealing the eggs by driving his bill through 
them and flying away. He robs hens' nests in 
this fashion, and gets caught by it. The 
farmer takes away all the e^s but one, and 
that he empties and fills with bird-lime. Mag 
spears it, and flies away with his prize ; he soon 
finds that it will not slip off" his beak as he 
would like, and he batters it against a tree 
with a smart blow which scatters the adhesive 



HOW TO MAKE A NEST. I07 

bird-lime over his head and wings, and makes 
him an easy prey. 

The nest of the Magpie is built high in 
the tree. It is roofed over with thorns, leav- 
ing a hole just large enough to admit the 
owner. The building of nests is the subject 
of a curious fable. 

" The birds, not knowing how to build nests, 
went in a body to ask the Magpie to teach 
them, which he was willing to do. 

" ' First, 5 he said, ' you must look out for a 
good strong, forked branch and begin by lay- 
ing two sticks crosswise.' 

" ' That's just what I did,' said the Rook. 

"'Next, you must raise the sides a little, 
and then put in some hay, which you must 
work well into the sticks.' 

" ' The very thing I have been doing,' said 
the Crow. 

" ' Now, for fear the eggs should be thrown 
out, you must raise the sides about as high 
as your head when you sit in the bottom of 
the nest, and put in some soft wool.' 



;o3 



ABOUT CROWS. 



44 * Why,' said the Thrush, 'I did as far as 
that before I came here.' 

44 \ Oh ! then/ replied the Magpie, 4 as I see 
that you all know how to make nests, there 
is no occasion for me to teach you.' 

46 And that is the reason why the other 
birds are only able to build half nests." 

It is said that a Magpie can count three, but 
not four. One had his nest near a hut, in 
which a man hid in order to shoot the bird. 
He saw the man go in with a gun, and flew 
away. When the man left the bird came back. 
Then two went into the hut, and one came 
out, but Mag would not come back. Next 
tnree went in, and two came out, with no bet- 
ter luck. Then four went in, and three came 
out; the bird could not count four, and so 
went back and was shot. 

A tame Magpie is very amusing, for its vari- 
ous odd tricks and its ability to talk, which it 
can do nearly as well as a parrot. It is also 
very mischievous, stealing every light thing 
it can carry away and hiding it in some out 



A THIEVISH MAGPIE. IO9 

of the way hole or corner. Servants have 
often been accused of stealing jewels or 
spoons, which the Magpie had secreted in his 
treasury. An old gentleman, when reading, 
used to lay aside his spectacles, take snuff, 
think on what he had read, and then, resuming 
his spectacles, go on again. One day the 
Magpie stole first the red-leather spectacle- 
case. Then he watched, and when the old 
man laid down his spectacles, he carried those 
off in a twinkling. Presently they were 
missed, .and for a time the gentleman could 
hardly believe that some one had not played a 
trick upon him. The spectacles and several 
other missing articles were found in a hollow 
where two roofs met, — Mag's hiding place. 
Another made friends with a sheep, and used 
to hide his plunder in the wool on the sheep's 
back. 

The Magpie is about eighteen inches long. 
His head, neck and back are black; throat, 
gray; shoulders, white; wings, blue ; tail, long 
and wedge-shaped. 



I tO ABOUT CROWS. 

In England there are many superstitions 
concerning this bird. To see one, or two, or 
three together, is a sign of something, good 
or bad, while the ways in which the birds fly 
are of much consequence. Even so lately as 
in 1860, a request was made officially to the 
authorities at Dresden, in Germany, for a sup- 
ply of Magpies. They were to be perfect, even 
to claws and feathers, and must be shot be- 
tween the 24th of December and the 18th of 
January; they were to be made into a powdei 
supposed to be a valuable remedy for. the dis- 
ease called epilepsy. 

The signs are relics of the ancient art of 
divination, by which the people of Pagan Rome 
were humbugged. As for the medicine, being 
only dried and pounded meat, it is probably 
as effective as many other innocent prescrip- 
tions now much in fashion, whose only influ- 
ence is on the imagination of the patient. 
Doubtless many persons recover after taking 
the medicine, and sometimes in spite of it. 




GROUP OF HUMMING-BIRDS. 



About Wumming--Birds, 



Vertebrata. — Aves. 

Order — Insessorea. — Perchers. 

Tribe — Tentidrosfres. — Having thin bills. 

Family — TrochUida. — Greek, Trochihis, the name of a small bird. 




UMMING-BIKDS live in Ame- 
rica, and are found in some 
variety from Canada to Pata- 
gonia, though known in no 
other land in the world. 
Some of them wander over 
large distances, migrating like 
the larger birds ; others are 
restricted to very narrow limits, only a few 
hundred yards wide, and on the slopes of a 
single mountain. They are most numerous in 



114 ABOUT HUMMINGBIRDS. 

Mexico and about the Equator. They are very 
small, always on the wing, swift as light, of 
very varied and curious forms, and splendid 
with gorgeous colors, which flash in the 
sunlight like the most brilliant and precious 
gems. When flying they move too swiftly for 
the eye to follow, and we see them suddenly 
appear, hover for an instant, and then as 
swiftly vanish. This rapid motion of their 
wings causes a low hum, like that made by 
some insects, and hence we call them Hum- 
ming-Birds; in other languages their names 
have the same meaning. The hum differs in 
tone with the different species, so that a prac- 
ticed ear can tell which kind is near, even 
before it is seen. The Black Cap, for instance, 
gives a tone like that of a wheel driven by 
machinery, while another gives the droning 
hum of a very large bee. 

The wings of the Humming-_birds are long 
and slender, like those of the swallows, and 
when folded, they usually extend beyond the 
tail. When hovering over a flower, the wings 



THEIR FOOD. US 

move so rapidly as to seem only like two filmy 
fans fastened to the bird. The legs are weak. 
The tails are strong, like the wings, and 
have every variety of form. Some are pointed, 
others round or square, others are forked; 
some are very long; others have but six 
feathers; but in all cases the tail has consider- 
able motion, and, like a rudder, turns the 
course of the bird to the right or left, up or 
down. 

There has been much dispute about the food 
of these birds, some claiming that they lived 
upon insects, others that they sucked the honey 
of flowers, like the honey-bees. It is now 
understood that their food consists of both 
honey and insects. The naturalist, Webber, 
tamed several of these little birds. At first 
they were very fond of the syrup which 
he furnished them, but after a while they 
began to droop, and he let them fly. They 
soon returned, as fresh as ever, for the 
supply of sweet food which they knew they 
should find. This occurred again, and when 



n6 



ABOUT HUMMINGBIRDS. 



they were next set free, Mr. Webber and his 
sister watched them very carefully. 

He says : " We were sadly puzzled to think 
what it was they were dipping at so eagerly in 
the shrubbery, to the utter neglect of the many 
flowers. We moved closer to watch them to 
better advantage, and in so doing changed 
our relative position to the sun. At once 
the thing was revealed to me. I caught Ruby 
in the very act of taking a small spider, with 
the point of his long beak, from the center of 
one of those circular webs of the garden 
spider, that so abound in the South. The 
thing was done so daintily that he did not 
stir the dewdrops, which, now glittering in the 
golden sun, crowded the gossamer tracery, 
all diamond strung. 

" Our presence did not disturb them in the 
least, and we watched them catching spiders 
for half an hour. They frequently came within 
ten feet of our faces, and we could distinctly 
see them take the little spider from the center 
of the wheel where it lies, and swallow it 



THEIR TONGUES. 1 17 

entire. After this, we let them out daily, and 
although we watched them closely, and with 
the most patient care, we could never see them 
touch the spiders again until the usual interval 
of about a fortnight had passed, when they 
attacked them as vigorously as ever; but the 
foraj 7 of one morning seemed to suffice. If 
we shut them up past the time, until they 
began to look drooping, and then brought one 
of those little spiders with other insects, they 
would snap up the spider soon enough, but 
paid no attention to the others." 

The bills of the Humming-Birds are all thin 
and sharp, but vary considerably in curvature, 
and in some other respects. Each species has 
the form, straight or curved, turned up or 
down, which is best fitted to reach its food in 
the deep cups of the flowers which it visits. 
The tongue is long, thread-like, and double 
nearly 'to the root. At the throat it joins a 
curiously forked bone which passes on either 
side of the neck, and round the back of the 
head, ending in the forehead. This is so 



1 1 8 ABOUT HUMMING-BIRDS. 

arranged that the bird can thrust its tongue 
out a long distance, and pick up an insect or 
gather a drop of honey at the bottom of the 
long tube of a flower. The common wood- 
pecker has such a tongue, and can use it in the 
same way. 

More than three hundred species of these 
little birds are known, and others are continu- 
ally being discovered. 

The Humming-Bird most common at the 
North, is the Ruby-throated, Trochilus colubris. 
Its plumage is golden-green above, golden-red 
about the throat, fine purple-brown on the 
wings and tail, and white beneath. The gen- 
eral tint of the throat is ruby, but it varies, as 
the light is reflected from it, from deep black, 
through every shade of red and green, to a 
glow of light, like the blaze of a furnace at 
white heat; and all these hues have the same 
radiant, metallic lustre. 

The Ruby-throat is a bold little fellow. He 
is so swift of wing that he cares not for hawk 
or owl, and will even drive away the eagle 



THEIR NESTS. 1 19 

himself, when the royal bird ventures too near 
his home. He has been seen to perch upon the 
head of the bald eagle, and peck away with 
right good will, tearing out the white feathers, 
while the great bird dashed screaming through 
the air, unable to get rid of its tiny torment. 
As the bird is only three and a half inches 
long, his nest is very small. It is round, 
neatly made, with thick walls and a small hol- 
low. The bird usually fixes it upon the top of 
a bough, but sometimes fastens it to the side 
of the trunk ; in either case it is made so 
much like a knob of the tree, that only a prac- 
ticed nest-hunter would perceive it. The 
female is very cautious when going to the 
nest. When she is near it she rises high in 
the air, out of sight, and then drops quickly 
down in the place, before one who is watching 
would be done looking where she vanished. 
The nest is woven of the cotton-like wind's of 
certain seeds, like the downy thistle. These 
are wrought into a strong soft wall, and are 
covered with tne mosses which grow near by 



I 2 O ABOUT HUMMING- BIRDS. 

on the stems of the tree. In this tiny bed, 
lined with the wool from the mullen stalk, the 
bird lays two little pearly eggs. 

We have already mentioned Mr. Webber's 
Ruby-throats, which he let loose occasionally 
to hunt for spiders. He caught them by 
tempting them into a room with vases of fresh 
flowers, and then closing the window after 
them. Several injured themselves by dashing 
against the window pane. Finally one was 
caught in the hand, and when he came to look 
at it, the little fellow pretended to be dead. It 
lay on the open palm for some minutes with- 
out any motion ; then gently opened one of its 
bright eyes to see if the way was clear, and 
closed it again when it saw its captor watch- 
ing it. 

A mixture of two parts of loaf sugar, one 
of honey, and ten of water, was brought, and 
a drop was touched to the point of its bill. In 
an instant it came to life,, and w T as on its feet, 
sipping the food from a spoon. When it had 
taken enough, it sat upon the finger, and 



FEIGNING DEATH. 121 

plumed its wings as if quite at "home. By the 
next day it would come from any part of the 
room, alight on the edge of the china cup 
which held its food, and drink eagerly, thrust- 
ing in its bill to the very base. A family of 
these birds, which Mr. "Webber had tamed, 
migrated at the usual season, but the next year 
returned again and flew at once to the well- 
known window. When the cup of nectar was 
prepared for them, they came and supped, and 
brought their mates with them, so that quite a 
company of the beauties feasted with him. 

Wilson relates that one which he captured 
seemed to suffer from cold, and to be almost 
dead; he carried it into the sunshine, and it 
soon revived, flew to a twig for a moment, and 
then vanished in the sunshine. It is possible 
that this, like Webber's bird, was only "play- 
ing 'possum," and that others which have been 
said to die from fright, were not quite so far 
gone as they wished to seem. 

The Long-tailed Humming-Bird, of Jamaica, 
Trochilus polytmus, is a species which does not 



12 2 ABOUT HUMMING-BIRDS. 

migrate. The upper parts of this bird are 
green, glossed with gold, the wings purple 
brown, the tail black, with a steel-blue reflec- 
tion. The throat, breast and under parts are a 
glowing emerald green. The whole length of 
the male bird is about ten inches, of which the 
tail is three-fourths. The female wants the 
long tail feathers, and is only about four 
inches long. 

It is easy to catch these birds with a gauze 
net, but they usually die soon after. A few 
which were taken from the nest were tamed. 
Like the Ruby-throat, they fed upon nectar, 
with a meal of insects by way of a change. 
Each bird in a room had its own place for 
resting after flight, or at night, and would not 
allow another to occupy it; even if their owner 
wished to make them change places, they were 
uneasy, and each tried to regain possession of 
his own. 

The nest is made of fine moss, cotton fibre, 
and spider-web, and is covered with mosses; it 
is hung to a bough or twig, and in one case 



FLAME- BEARERS. I 2 3 

was suspended over the sea-waves by the twigs 
of a wild vine. 

Some of the Humming-Birds have a tuft of 
white downy feathers, like a powder puff, 
about each leg. These are called Puff-legs. 
The Copper-bellied Puff-leg, Ereocnemis cuprei- 
ventris, is found in Santa Fe de Bogota. It 
dwells in a belt of land from six thousand to 
nine thousand feet above the level of the sea, 
probably because its food is found only in that 
locality. The general color of this bird is 
green, washed on the back with bronze, on the 
breast with gold, and underneath with copper, 
whence its name. The wings are brown and 
purple. The puffs are snowy white, like 
swan's down. 

One family wears a gorget of bright feathers 
about the throat, which gives them the name 
Flame-bearers, Selasphora. The Little Flame- 
bearer, S. scintilla, lives in the crater of an old 
volcano in Veragua, nine thousand feet above 
the sea. It is only two and a half inches long, 

and its flame is so bright that, as Mr. Gould 

u 



124 ABOUT HUMMING-BIRDS. 

remarks, it seems to have caught the last spark 
of the volcano before it went out. 

Nuttall describes a Flame-bearer, S. rufus, 
which he found on the Columbia River, in 
Oregon. "We saw the males in numbers, 
darting, buzzing and squeaking in the usual 
manner of their tribe; but when engaged in 
collecting its accustomed sweets in all the 
energy of life, it seemed like a breathing gem, 
a magic carbuncle of glowing fire, stretching 
out its glorious ruff as if to emulate the sun 
itself in splendor. Towards the close of May 
the females were sitting, while the males were 
uncommonly quarrelsome and vigilant, darting 
out at once as I approached the tree, like 
angry coals of brilliant fire, passing within 
very little of my face, returning several times 
to the attack, sailing and darting with the 
utmost velocity, at the same time uttering a 
curious sharp bleat, somewhat similar to the 
quivering twang of a dead twig, yet also so 
much like the real bleat of a small quadruped, 
that for some time I searched the ground, 



THE SAPPHO COMET. T25 

instead of the air, for the actor of the scene. 
The angry hissing or bleating note seems some- 
thing like whffft'fsh vee, tremulously uttered, 
and accompanied by something like the whirr 
of the night-hawk." 

A very beautiful variety is the Sappho 
Comet, or Bar-tailed Humming-Bird, Cometes 
sjoarganwnis. It is a native of Bolivia, and 
quite familiar, hunting the gardens and 
orchards, for the flowers of the apple and 
other fruit trees ; it visits the cactus flowers 
for an abundant supply of insect food. The 
nest is made of fibres and moss, and has a 
long tail or queue, but what for no one knows. 
It is lined with hair, and is hung against the 
side of a rock or wall, supported either by the 
wall, or by some twig or swinging root. The 
bird always selects some place which is shel- 
tered by an overhanging ledge. The body of 
this bird is light green, bronzed on the side 
of the neck; the lower part of the back is 
crimson red. The tail is formed like the letter 
Y, each branch consisting of four fiery red 



126 



ABOUT HUMMING-BIRDS. 



feathers, of graded lengths, each feather being 
tipped with black. This bird is about eight 
inches long. 

Far up upon the Andes, even near the line 
of perpetual snow, varieties of these little 
birds are found. The Chimborazian Hill-Star, 
Oreoirochilus Chimborazo, is never seen lower 
than twelve thousand feet above the sea, and 
specimens have been taken at the height of 
sixteen thousand feet, or about four miles. It 
is usually found near an alpine plant, which 
grows at that height, and bears large yellow 
flowers. Its coloring is less bright than some 
of the family, except the head and throat, and 
these are of the most brilliant hue3, the head 
blue, and throat emerald green. Another Hill- 
Star, which dwells on Mount Pichinca, is like 
the last, except the green spot on the throat. 
Although these volcanoes are only thirty miles 
apart, these birds, which live at about the same 
height on each, are never found to have passed 
from one to the other. 

One of the minutest of this family, and of 



THE ' VER VAIN HUMMING-BIRD. 1^7 

all the feathered tribes, is the Vervain Hum- 
ming-Bird, Mellisuga minima. It lives in 
Jamaica. Mr. Gosse says : " The West 
Indian Vervain is one of the most common 
weeds of neglected pastures, shooting every- 
where, its' slender columns set around with 
blue flowers to the height of a foot. Our 
little Humming-Bird visits these spikes in suc- 
cession, flitting from one to another exactly 
in the same manner as the honey-bee, and 
with the same business-like application and 
industry. 

" I have watched with much delight the 
evolutions of this little species at the moringa 
tree. When only one is present, he pursues 
the round of the blossoms soberly enough. 
But if two are at the tree, one will fly off and 
suspend himself in the air a few yards distant; 
the other presently starts off to him, and then, 
without touching each other, they mount 
upward with strong rushing wings, perhaps 
for five hundred feet. They then separate, and 
each starts diagonally towards the ground like 



128 



ABOUT HUMMING-BIRDS. 



a ball from a rifle, and wheeling round comes 
up to the blossoms again, and sucks as if it 
had not moved away at all. Frequently one 
alone will mount in this manner, or dart on 
invisible wing diagonally upwards, looking 
exactly like a bumble-bee. Indeed, the 
figure of the smaller Humming-Birds on the 
wing, their rapidity, their wavering course, and 
their whole manner of flight, are entirely those 
of an insect, and any one who has watched the 
flight of a large beetle or bee will have a very 
good idea of these tropic gems painted against 
the sky." 

The nest is small, at first, and rather shal- 
low. When the young birds are hatched, the 
mother sets to work again and raises the sides 
of the nest to keep the chicks from falling 
out. When they are ready to fly the nest has 
been built into a deep round cup. All the 
Humming-Birds, with some other small 
species, make the rim of the nest curve 
inwards, so that, however hard the wind 



THEY DO NOT SING. 1 29 

may shake the bough, the eggs may not be 
thrown out. 

In all this account of the Humming-Birds no 
mention has been made of their song. Except 
the single soft note of the Vervain Hum- 
ming-Bird, and the complaining chirp of the 
Ruby-throat, they do not sing. Nature seems to 
have been sufficiently lavish in dressing them 
in so beautiful plumage. Usually the birds 
which are most beautiful are least valued for 
their song, while those which sing most sweetly 
wear the plainest garb. The thrushes, the 
lark, the mocking-bird, the nightingale, dis- 
play only quiet, sober colors. The Humming- 
Birds are mute; the birds of paradise utter 
only hoarse croaks ; the peacock is as notori- 
ous for his disagreeable scream as he is cele- 
brated for his gorgeous train. Thus nature 
distributes her gifts. One has strength ; 
another speed ; another beauty ; another mel- 
ody ; and all are given, not earned, or 
deserved. Then let not the swallow seek the 
strength of the eagle; or the eagle claim the 



13° ABOUT HUMMING-BIRDS, 

song of the nightingale; or the nightingale 
mourn for the golden glories of the Humming- 
Birds. So ought men, to whom good gifts 
have been in like manner variously distributed, 
to be content with that which they have sever- 
ally received. 

It has been suggested that all these are but 
the outward signs of love. " It may be, there- 
fore, that on the one side the bird which has 
a good voice and plain dress, pours forth his 
love, and shows his sympathy, in gushing 
strains, which are addressed to the ear of his 
mate; again, the bright plumaged bird utters 
his voiceless song by the vivid hues that flash 
from his glittering attire, the eye being the 
only medium through which his partner, whose 
ears are not attuned to melody, could realize 
the fullness of. his utterance. The one showers 
his musical tones like vocal rainbows, and the 
other scatters his rays of many-colored light 
in flashing hues or blending tints, and whether 
in sweet song or glittering vesture, the creature 
utters the love and sympathy of its nature." 




s 



30 

O 



»-5 

C 

c 

a: 

s 



^bout Owls. 



Vertebrata — Aves. 

Order — Accipitres. — Hawks. 

Family — Strigidaz. — Latin, Strix, a Screech Owl. 




ERHAPS no family of birds 
have been misrepresented more 
commonly, or more unreason- 
C^^^\!^f ably, than the Owls. In all 
countries, and in every lan- 
guage, the very name is a word 
of ridicule or of reproach, 
while the cry is supposed to 
foretell some fearful event. Goldsmith accuses 
him of treachery because he seeks his food 
by night — the bird is so made that he can 
not see by day — and because he steals upon 



134 ABOUT OWLS. 

his prey, very much like the lion, who is called 
a noble animal, and the king of beasts. 

The naturalists have given these birds names 
which suggest something noisy or disagreeable. 
The unlearned say of a stupid fellow, " he 
looks as wise as an owl!" But the Owl is not 
as fierce as the eagle, as cruel or unclean as the 
vulture, as noisy as the peacock, or as stupid 
as the ostrich ; in fact he has just about as 
much cunning and prudence as the other birds 
of prey. He does the work that he was fitted 
to do. He flies by night, because he was made 
to feed on prey that is active at night. He 
sings just as sweetly as nature intended he 
should sing, and if he makes his nest in ruin- 
dus towers, it is because they afford him and 
nis young a secure and quiet home. 

The Owl has, usually, a large head, with a 
strong hooked beak; great, staring eyes, which 
>ook straight forward; a circle of feathers 
tfhich surround each eye and partially cover 
.he beak and the ear, and which make the 
arge eye seem still larger; strong curved 



GENERAL DESCRIPTION. 135 

claws, and soft, downy plumage, generally 
spotted with various shades of brown or yel- 
low. His legs and feet are often feathered to 
the toes, and his claws admit of much motion, 
so that he can hold very small prey. His eyes 
are fitted for seeing in the dark, or at twilight. 
Some species see very well even in the day 
time, and others are quite dazzled by daylight. 
His flight is easy, buoyant, and noiseless, on 
account of the softness of his feathers. In a 
word, an Owl is very like a feathered cat, 
just as a cat is like a furred Owl. He feeds 
on birds, rats, mice, and small game of all 
kinds, swallowing his prey entire, and casting 
up the indigestible parts in small pellets. His 
nest is rudely constructed in the hollow of an 
old tree, in a fissure or cave in a rock, or 
among the crevices of some ruined wall. So 
on her 

" ivy-mantled tower 
The moping Owl does to the moon complain 
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, 
Molest her ancient, solitary reign." 



I36 ABOUT OWLS. 

The Owl family may be divided into three 
branches. First, there are the Owls proper, 
having large external ears and the circles of 
feathers about the eyes entire, and which are 
nocturnal in their habits; next, the horned 
Owls, whose external ear is small, and which 
wear a tuft of feathers, like a horn, on each 
side of the head; and last, the hawk Owls, 
which have small eye-circles, and neither outer 
ear, nor feathery tufts. 

The chief of the last family is the Great 
Snowy Owl, Nyctea nivea. This Owl, from its 
beauty, bravery, and endurance, has been 
called the King of the Owls. It dwells in 
the northern parts of both continents, where 
it finds its food and rears its young, among 
the wastes of rock and ice, in spite of the 
violence of arctic storms. In those regions 
where so much labor and life have been wasted 
in fruitless search for an impassable passage 
from European to Asiatic seas, this bird has 
been found at the most northern point, better 



the sno wr owl. 137 

prepared by nature to endure the extreme cold, 
than men, with all the resources of art. 

The whole plumage of this bird is pure 
white, without any marks whatever; the young 
birds, however, are marked with dark spots at 
the tip of each feather. The beak and claws 
are black. The eyes are bright as gold ; by 
daylight they are very brilliant, and at night 
they glow like twin balls of fire. A story is 
told of a Snowy Owl, which alighted on the 
rigging of a ship to rest itself, after a long 
flight. A sailor who was sent aloft on some 
duty, speedily came down again, in a great 
fright, sure that he had seen "Davy Jones" 
sitting on the main yard, and glaring at him 
with his great eyes. 

These eyes are fixed in the Owl's face so 
that he can not turn them, but his neck is so 
fitted that he can turn his head quite round 
without moving his body. 

The food of this Owl varies with the season. 
In the short summer it takes many of the small 
birds. In autumn it flies low, and feeds upon 



I38 ABOUT OWLS. 

the grouse or ptarmigan, and when these are 
gone, it goes to the water and catches fish, 
waiting on the rock as patiently as a human 
angler. When the country is covered with 
snow, many of the smaller animals are driven 
upon the surface to seek the bark of bushes 
and trees, and on these the Owls manage to 
keep alive, until the melting snows disclose 
the bodies of creatures which perished under 
the sweeping storms of the preceding winter. 
Thus they live during all the year, and do not 
leave their snowy realms until driven to the 
last extremity. 

In the great plains which border the Mis- 
souri and its branches, a small animal called 
the Prairie Dog is found in great numbers. 
These marmots — for such they are — some- 
thing midway between a squirrel and a wood- 
chuck — live in troops, and dig their burrows 
with considerable regularity, like towns, leav- 
ing streets between their burrows. The towns 
seem to be governed by some old fellow, whom 
the hunters call Big-Dog, who sits before the 



IN PRAIRIE-DOG TOWNS. 139 

entrance to his burrow, and issues his orders 
as mayor. 

While no danger is feared, the towns-people 
are full of life, sitting on the mounds of earth 
which are left before each burrow, or running 
about to visit their neighbors. Suddenly a 
sharp yelp is given ; at once quick barks reply 
on every side; the air is filled with a cloud of 
dust; nothing can be seen but a confused mass 
of whisking legs and tails, and the busy town is 
desolate. In a few moments a pair of eyes 
are peering out at one hole, a whisker peeps 
out at another, and presently all come forth 
again, as lively as before. But these animals 
are not suffered to occupy their towns in quiet. 
The vicious and the idle gather among them, 
and do them no small harm. Lizards creep 
into their houses ; the deadly rattlesnake comes 
after their little ones, and a kind of burrowing 
Owl finds it more convenient to take posses- 
sion of a marmot's burrow than to dig one for 
itself. Thi3 Owl, Athene cunicularia, has been 
accused of going after the young marmots, but 



14-0 ABOUT OWLS. 

there is no evidence that it eats any thing but 
insects, and the " mice and such small deer " 
as come in its way. Its color is a rich brown 
upon the upper parts, spotted with grayish 
white, and whitish beneath. It is about eleven 
inches long. Its cry is much like the sharp, 
quick bark of the Prairie Dog, 

The Great Horned or Eagle Owl, Bubo max- 
irnus, is the largest of the family, and seems to 
be nearly as large as the Golden Eagle. It is 
really much smaller, and owes its apparent size 
to its feathers, not to its body. Its weight is 
about one fourth that of the Eagle, but in 
power of muscle it is hardly inferior. It is 
found in Europe. Its place is occupied in 
America by the Virginian Eared Owl, Bubo 
Virginianus. This bird is a terrible destroyer 
of game, picking up grouse, partridges, hares, 
ducks, squirrels, and even attacking the wild 
turkey. The Owl tries to find a place where 
the turkey is asleep, and then swoops down 
upon its victim before it awakes. Sometimes 
the turkey is roused by the rush of wings, and 



THE VIRGINIAN EARED OWL. I4I 

then it instinctively spreads its broad tail over 
its back and ducks its head. The Owl finds 
nothing but stiff, smooth feathers to grasp, its 
talons glide off from the protecting quills, and 
so the turkey escapes. 

The color of this bird is reddish brown, 
marked with spots of black, brown, and gray, 
and covered with innumerable specks. Its 
large eyes are golden orange; beak and claws 
large and black; legs short and strong, and 
thickly clothed to the very claws with fine, 
downy plumage. The broad tufts, which re- 
semble horns, are about three inches high, 
formed of twelve or fourteen black feathers 
edged with brownish yellow. Its flight is very 
powerful, easy, and graceful. Its voice is hol- 
low; when heard by night it causes even a 
manly heart to quake. 

"Along the mountainous shores of the Ohio, 

and amidst the deep forests of Indiana," says 

Wilson, "this ghostly watchman has frequently 

warned me of the approach of morning, and 

amused me with his singular exclamations, 

v 



H 2 ABOUT OWLS. 

sometimes sweeping down and around my tire, 
tittering a loud and sudden Waugh ! Waugh 
! sufficient to have alarmed a whole garri- 
son. He has other nocturnal sounds, not less 
melodious, one of which resembles the half 
suppressed screams of a person suffocating, or 
throttled, and can not fail of being very enter- 
taining to a lonely, benighted traveler, in the 
midst of an Indian wilderness." 

The Mottled Owl, Scops asio, a small and 
handsome species, sometimes called the Little 
Screech Owl, is common throughout the United 
States. It is oftenest seen in autumn and win- 
ter, when forced to approach barns or houses 
in search of mice. During the day it hides in 
hollow trees or thick evergreens, and it is sub- 
ject to great derision and insult, even amount 
ing to blows, if found by any of the smaller 
birds. It is about ten inches long, dark brown 
above, shaded with paler brown, and spotted 
with zigzag points of black and ash; the face 
is whitish, and the breast is marked with lines 
of black and brown on a whitish ground. 



THE TAWNY OWL. 1 43 

The Tawny Owl, Surnium aluco, is the one 
which, in England, makes night dismal with 
its loud lamenting cry. It is a sage looking 
bird, and among the rustics has a variety of 
names, screech-owl, madge-howlet, and Peter, 
being the most common. Its head and legs 
are very large, and it stands quite erect, so 
that it looks like a little fat old man, with 
plenty of wig, great round spectacles over a 
hooked nose, and an air as grave and rever- 
end as a judge. Its soft feathers make it 
seem much larger than it really is, and as they 
are poorly fitted to keep out the wet, a rainy 
day reduces its size about one half. The rain, 
however, does not trouble it much, for, if it 
soon gets wet, it soon gets dry again. 

A gentleman allowed a pair to build a : est 
in the attic of an unoccupied house. He s; fs: 
"I should have been a little afraid of molest- 
ing them, so fierce did the old gentleman 1 ;ok 
when his wife and children were approached. 
One morning the cat was missing, and I ft .md 
that some strange sounds had been heard the 



144 ABOUT OWLS. 

evening before in the room where the Owls 
were. On going up that evening, I found poor 
puss quite dead, one of her eyes actually 
pecked out, and her antagonist, also dead, 
lying on the side of the nest. The mamma 
Owl was away, probably in search of food, but 
she may have been present and assisted at the 
death. I have seen a cat, at another time, 
cowed by an old Owl that came down the 
chimney into the dining room." 

The length of this bird is about fifteen 
inches. Its beak is white ; eyes blue ; the 
circles round the eyes white, streaked w T ith 
brown; plumage tawny brown, darkest on the 
head and back, lightest on the breast, and 
spotted or barred with light or dark brown. 
Its screeching and its hooting are alike dismal. 
It sharply cries too-wkit, or utters an inward 
tremulous too-whoo, with a gloomy and sub- 
dued shivering, any thing but merry. 

The Barn or White Owl, Strix flammea y is a 
delicately colored and soft plumed bird, always 
found near dwellings and farmyards, where it 



THE BARN OWL. I45 

loves to live, not for the sake of eating young 
chickens, but for the mice which make such 
havoc in the grain stacks and corn cribs. 
The number of mice which it destroys is 
almost incredible. Mr. Waterton estimates 
that when a pair of these Owls are rearing a 
brood, they bring to the nest four or five mice 
every hour. This gentleman established a col- 
ony of Barn Owls in the ivy which adorned 
the ancient gateway of his mansion. They 
multiplied rapidly, and repaid his protection 
by ridding the out-buildings of the great num- 
bers of rats and mice with which they were 
infested. They were not sparing, it is true, of 
their music, which though rather discordant, 
was doubtless the best they could afford. Six- 
teen months after the apartment over the old 
gateway had been cleaned, more than a bushel 
of the pellets or castings of these Owls was 
gathered, each pellet containing the skeletons 
of four to seven mice. The amount of service 
done by a pair of Owls must therefore be 
greater than that of a large number of cats > 



146 ABOUT OWLS. 

while their music could hardly be less agree- 
able. 

The Owl has two ways of eating. If he 
has caught a mouse and is going to eat it, 
the mouse is first bitten smartly across the 
back so as to destroy all life, and when it 
hangs motionless from the bird's beak, it is 
tossed into the air very adroitly, so as to fall 
with its head downwards. The Owl then 
catches the head in his mouth, and holds it 
for a few seconds ; then a sharp toss sends it 
down his throat, leaving the tail hanging out, 
usually at the left side of the bird's beak. 
The bird rolls this about for a bit, as a boy 
would a stick of candy, or a man a cigar, and 
then another jerk puts all out of sight. But 
when the Owl has to deal with a bird, like 
others of the hawk tribe, he strips off the fea- 
thers, and tears it to pieces. 

This bird is easily tamed whet* young, and 
makes a very amusing pet. One each formed 
a friendship with a tame skylark, which he 
allowed to sit on his back, and to bury itself 



TAMED OWLS. 147 

in his soft plumage. This bird was an active 
enemy of bats,, and killed small birds, as well 
as mice. It used to push its prey into a hole 
in the wall, made by the fall of a brick. In 
this odd larder was found a strange variety of 
game. Six or eighW small birds would be 
counted early in the evening, and once as 
many as fourteen bats had been poked into 
the hole. Several times the bird had stowed 
away a moderate sized eel, which it had killed 
by a bite across the back. 

Another tame Owl was approached by a 
dog, which came up to inspect the stranger. 
The Owl quietly rolled over on its back, and 
when the dog put his nose to the bird, it 
struck with its feet so sharply that it put out 
both the eyes of the poor dog, which had to 
be killed on account of the injury. 

Many other species of Owls are named, but 
they agree in general appearance and habits 
with those we have described. They are all 
sober, sedate birds, hard-working and provi- 
dent for their families, but solitary and seclu- 



148 ABOUT OWLS. 

ded in their habits, minding their own busi- 
ness. But there is something in these very 
solitary habits, and something so discordant in 
their tones, when heard in the gloomy silence 
of night, that have impressed men with fear 
and dislike of the who?e tribe. There is no 
good reason for this superstitious awe. There 
is nothing in the Owl supernatural or myste- 
rious, or more than belongs to any bird of 
prey which hunts by night and rests by day. 
Its harsh voice, caused by its wide throat, 
serves, as was doubtless meant by its Creator, 
to alarm its prey, and make the frightened 
animals stir; thus the slight movement and 
consequent rustle shows the bird its game. 

Although we must think that the reputation 
of the Owls is worse than their character, after 
all their character is none of the best. There 
is nothing pleasant in their appearance, nothing 
agreeable in their manners, nothing genial in 
their disposition or habits. They live only for 
themselves. Their good qualities are mostly 
negative, and the best we can say is, that they 



THE OWL- KING, 1 49 

might be worse. There are men and women 
of whom we have to say the same. 

" In 'the hollow tree, in the old grey tower, 
The spectral Owl doth dwell ; 
Dull, hated, despised, in the sunshine hour, 

But at dusk he's abroad, and well ! 
Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him, 

All mock him outright by day; 
But at night, when the woods grow still and dim, 
The boldest will shrink away. 

Oh ! when the night falls, and roosts the fowl, 
Then, then is the reign of the Horned Owl. 

" And the Owl hath a bride who is fond and bold, 
And loveth the wood's deep gloom ; 
And with eyes like the shine of the moon-stone cold, 

She awaiteth her ghastly groom : 
Not a feather she moves, not a carol she sing6. 

As she waits in her tree so still, 
But when her heart heareth his flapping wings, 
She hoots out her welcome shrill ! 

Oh ! when the moon shines, and dogs do howl, 
Then, then is the reign of the Horned Owl. 

Mourn not for the Owl, nor his gloomy plight! 

The Owl hath his share of good ; 
If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight, 

He is lord in the dark greenwood ! 



15° ABOUT OWLS. 

Nor lonely the bud, nor his ghastly mate; 

They are each unto each a pride ; 
Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange dark fate 
Hath rent them from all beside I 

So when the night falls, and dogs do howl, 
Sing Ho ! for the reign of the Horned Owl ! 
We know not alway 
Who are kings of day, 
But the king of the night is the bold brown Owl, 
Barry Cornwall. 



About Kingfishers. 



F 



VfiRTEBRATA — AVES. 

Order — Insessores — Perchers. 

Tribe — Fissirostres — Having bills which open wide* 

Family — AlcedinidcB — Latin, Alcedo, a kingfisher. 




)STJALLY there is, in midsum- 
mer, a time when nature seems 
asleep. The warm rays of sun- 
shine do not crowd every leaf 
and twig with springing, bud- 
ding life. The birds fly lazily 
through the still air, under a 
cloudless sky. The winds are 
whist. The waves of lake and ocean forget 
their tumult. Even the " multitudinous laugh- 
ter" of the sea subsides into a placid smile, 



154 ABOUT KINGFISHERS. 

and only the faintest splash is heard as the 
swells break idly on the beach. 

The ancients called these Halcyon days, and 
we use the word as signifying days of peace- 
ful rest, forgetting that Halcyon days means 
Kingfisher's days. The fable was that Alcy- 
one, the Kingfisher, had some charm by which 
the winds and waves were stilled to rest, and 
kept at peace fourteen days, while the bird 
made its nest upon the water, and hatched its 
young. This charm was aided by the sweet 
song of the bird. The fact was, that those 
who invented this story, with all the fables that 
go with it, did not know where to look for 
the Kingfisher's nest, and as she lives about the 
water, they guessed that she, somehow, reared 
her young there. She does not make her nest 
on the water, or on land, or on a tree, but in a 
hole in the ground. The place chosen is at 
the foot of a bank, near the water, and is 
usually the burrow of some four-footed ani- 
mal. The bird hollows out the inner end 
until large enough for her purpose, and takes 



THEIR NESTS. 155 

care to choose a burrow which slopes upward, 
so that the nest may be out of danger from 
water. The nest itself is made of fish bones, 
which the Kingfishers cast up from the fish 
eaten, just as the owls eject the indigestible 
parts of their food. The walls are about half 
an inch thick, and the shape is quite flat. The 
way in which the bones are arranged shows 
that the bird really forms them into a nest, 
and does not merely lay her eggs at random 
upon them. The partial decay of these bones 
is probably the reason why a Kingfisher's nest, 
and the bird itself, have such a vile and unen- 
durable stench. 

Mr. Gould thus describes his experience in 
procuring a nest : 

"During one of my fishing excursions on 
the Thames, I saw a hole in a steep bank, 
which I felt assured was a nesting-place of the 
Kingfisher, and on passing a spare top of my 
fly-rod to the extremity of the hole, a distance 
of nearly three feet, I brought out some fresh- 
ly-cast bones of fish, convincing me that I was 



1 5 6 ABOUT KINGFISHERS. 

right in my surmise. I again visited the . spot 
with a spade, and after removing nearly two 
feet square of turf, dug down to the nest with- 
out disturbing the entrance hole, or the pas- 
sage which led to it. Here I found four eggs, 
placed on the usual layer of fish bones ; all of 
these I removed with care, and then filled up 
the hole, beating the earth down as hard as 
the bank itself, and replacing the sod on top, 
in order that the barge-horses, passing to and 
fro, might not put a foot in the hole. A fort- 
night afterwards the bird was seen to leave 
the hole again, and my suspicion was awak- 
ened that she had taken to her old breeding 
quarters a second time. 

" Twenty-one days after, I again passed the 
top of my fly-rod up the hole, and found not 
only that the hole w r as of the former length, 
but that the female was within. I then stuffed 
a large mass of cotton to the extremity of the 
hole, in order to preserve the eggs and nest 
from damage during my again laying it open 
from above. On removing the sod and dig- 



THE BELTED KINGFISHER. 157 

ging down as before, I came upon the cotton 
wool, and beneath it a well-formed nest of 
fish bones, the size of a small saucer, the walls 
of which were fully half an inch thick, to- 
gether with eight beautiful eggs, and the old 
female herself. The mass of bones, weighing 
700 grains — - about an ounce and a half — had 
teen cast up and deposited by the bird, or 
the bird and its mate, besides the unusual 
number of eight eggs, in the short space of 
twenty-one days." 

The Common or Belted Kingfisher, Ceryle 
aleyone, is familiar all over Xorth America. 
He is about thirteen inches long. His back, 
and a belt across his breast, are blue; the 
under parts, and a spot before each eye, white ; 
the tail black, barred with white. The head 
wears a long crest. His sudden scream is 
shrill and harsh, quite like the sound of a 
watchman's rattle; one would think not well 
adapted to lull waves, or any thing else, to 
rest. The Kingfisher sits quietly for hours 
on the branch of some tree which overhangs 



158 ABOUT KINGFISHERS. 

the water, and then, with a loud scream, de- 
scends, and quickly rises again, bearing a fish 
in his beak. This he takes back to his perch, 
batters smartly against the branch, and swal- 
lows. Then he watches for another, and so 
keeps at work till he has eaten enough. His 
sight is very keen, and he finds his prey even 
in the turbid rapids of a waterfall. He knows, 
too, how to take a position which will make the 
best of the sunshine. 

One sunny afternoon the writer was observing 
a Kingfisher, which sat upon a naked limb of an 
oak, overlooking the water. For a long time the 
bird saw nothing, and did not move. Presently 
he left his perch, and flew along the margin of 
the lake, rather in the direction of the sun. 
After going a few rods, he stopped, turned his 
back to the sun, and for a few seconds stood 
balanced on his beating wings, and looked 
intently into the water. Then he turned, went 
on a few rods further, again turned his back 
to the sun, repeated his careful gaze, and 
again went on. At the third or fourth pause, 



THE SPOTTED KINGFISHER. 159 

lie spied a fish, and dropped upon it like an 
arrow. At each pause he placed himself in 
the air, over the water, so that the reflections 
from the surface would be turned away from 
him. 

His flight consists of five or six flaps, fol- 
lowed by a glide. When he pauses, he seems 
to stand upon his feet and beat the air with 
his wings, as a swimmer " treads " water. 

The bird occupies the same nest year after 
year. Audubon tried to catch one in its bur- 
row. He first set a net over the opening, 
but the bird crept out between the meshes 
and the earth. Next he found the bird in its 
hole, and he thrust a stick into the opening, 
thinking that he could blockade it until morn- 
ing; but the Kingfisher scratched his way 
round the stick, and so raised the blockade. 

A bird quite like the Belted Kingfisher, is 

the Spotted Kingfisher of Asia, Ceryle guttata. 

The natives call it Muchee-bag, or Fish-tiger. 

It is about fifteen inches long, with a beak 

three inches long. Its plumage is jet black, 

W 



1 60 ABOUT KINGFISHERS. 

spotted thickly with white, and its head wears 
a large crest of the same colors. 

The Great African Kingfisher, Ceryle max- 
ima, is about as long as the one last men- 
tioned, but his body is rather larger. The 
back is dark ashen-gray, nearly brown, and 
marked with numerous small white spots. The 
lower surface is grayish-white. 

The English Kingfisher, Alcedo hispida, is 
about seven inches long. Its coloring is quite 
brilliant, and complex. The top of the head, 
back of neck, and back, are dark green, flecked 
with bright spots of blue. The lower part of 
the back is light violet, or blue, and the tail 
indigo. The under parts are chestnut. Al- 
though thus brilliantly colored, it loses its gay 
appearance when seen against fresh white snow. 
This bird catches his prey quite like the Belt- 
ed Kingfisher. If he can take more than he 
wishes to eat, he stores the remainder away, 
until he gets hungry. One chose a crevice 
made by the roots of a willow tree, and would 
sometimes have four or five fish in his larder 



HO W THEY FISH. 1 6 1 

at once, some of them large enough to cook. 
He will sometimes pounce upon a fish too 
large to be swallowed, and has been choked 
to death by his greediness. One is said to 
have caught and tried to swallow a young 
dab-chick, which is a small bird of the duck 
family. 

The most fatal case is related by Mr. 
Wood. A gentleman watching the birds, fish 
and insects which were playing about a stream 
of water, saw a strange blue object floating 
down the current, and splashing with great 
energy. On looking closer he found that a 
Kingfisher had caught and partially swallowed 
a fish too large for him to manage ; while the 
contest was going on, a broad-nosed pike came 
up, and sw r allowed both fish and bird. The 
same person asserts that the Kingfisher is fond 
of slow, solemn music, and will linger to listen 
to it, but is driven aw T ay if more lively tunes 
are played. 

If not disturbed this bird becomes quite 
familiar. A fisherman threw away a fish 



l62 



ABOUT KINGFISHERS 



which was too small for his purpose. A 
Kingfisher upon a tree near by picked up the 
rejected fish. Another was too small, and 
thrown by. which the bird also ate. Upon 
this quite an intimacy sprang up between the 
two anglers ; the man made a peculiar whistle 
when he threw a fish, and the bird soon 
learned to come at the call. This friendship 
lasted for several years. Others have been 
reared from the nest, but they require a large 
amount of food, and soon learn that is much 
easier to be fed than to get their own living. 

In some parts of England the country people 
take this bird, remove the entrails, stuff the 
interior with spices, and then dry him in the 
sun. The bird is then hung by the point of 
the beak to a beam in the ceiling, so that it 
will turn freely, and they say that it always 
turns its breast towards the point from which 
the wind blows. 

The islands of the Eastern Archipelago fur- 
nish several notable varieties of this family. 
Indeed, the largest species lives in Australia, 



THE LA UGHING J A CKA SS. 1 63 

and is called the Giant Kingfisher, or Laugh- 
ing Jackass, Dacelo gigas. The settlers give it 
this name from its loud, discordant cry, which 
is a strange, grating laugh, more startling than 
that of the hyena, and by no means agreeable 
to one who is not familiar with it, in the lonely 
wilderness. The Laughing Jackass has quite 
an inquisitive nature, and if a fire is made, it 
often glides silently into the thicket near by, 
and utters its yell from one of the branches. 
The stranger is alarmed, but the old hand un- 
concernedly shoots the intruder and cooks him 
for his supper. 

At sunrise and sunset this bird becomes very 
noisy, as well as at dawn and at nightfall. So 
the white men sometimes call him the " Settler's 
Clock," while the natives call him Gogobera. 

His food is not altogether fish, but he gob- 
bles insects, snakes, and even small quadrupeds. 
He is said to be a handsome bird, the upper 
plumage being various shades of brown, and 
the under parts white, barred with brown. 
His length is about eighteen inches. 



164 



ABOUT KINGFISHERS. 



Another Australian Kingfisher, Halcyon sane- 
ta, is nearly as large as the Laughing Jackass. 
It feeds on insects, which it seizes in its bill, 
and thumps on the ground smartly; it also 
eats the crabs and prawns which are thrown 
on shore by the tide. Sometimes it tears ant- 
hills in pieces, and devours the inhabitants, 
with their young. Many other species are 
described, but they are not greatly different 
in form and habits from those we have men- 
mentioned. 




M 
o 

o- 

2 



Of Gei^tain Sweet Singef\s. 




>E purpose to group together in 
this article several birds whose 
only claim of 'kinship lies in 
their song. We have already 
observed the general rule, that 
those birds which wear the 
gayest plumage do not usu- 
ally excel in singing, while 
those which make the woods and meadows 
ring with their delicious music, are clad in 
gray, quiet robes. For all that, we like the 
homely singers best. There is something in- 
spiriting in the rich, rollicking trill of a bird. 
It makes us feel that spring has come; that 
nature has awaked from sleep; that all the 



1 68 CERTAIN SWEET SINGERS. 

air, the earth, the plain, the forest, the garden, 
the field, are full of earnest, gushing, over- 
flowing life. As the little warbler rises in his 
melody, how his w T hole being is poured into 
his song! His very attitude — every feather 
and fibre alive, his wings spread and quiver- 
ing, his eye on fire, and his full, bursting 
throat — tells in what downright earnest he is. 
And then the liquid notes, clear and sharp, or 
soft and mellow, how they harmonize, each 
with each, and, with the myriad other tones, 
the voiced stops of nature's grand organ, the 
deep diapason of the cataract and the storm, 
the clanging trumpet of the thunder, the viol 
of the babbling brook, the dulciaua of the 
sounding pine, and even the tingling voices of 
the silent stars, combine to swell the choral 
strain which all God's works continually do 
chant. 

Men often try to imitate the songs of birds, or 
to represent their strains by words, and the at- 
tempt always fails. The letters in our words 
represent sounds which we utter with our 



A SINGING AUTOMATON. 1 69 

mouths and throats, and which are different from 
those that birds make, because our vocal or- 
gans differ from theirs. Our letters will not ex- 
press their tones, and if we should invent new 
letters for them we could not speak the words 
which those letters would form. Something 
may be done by musical notation, but the signs 
will only indicate the pitch, without showing 
the quality of tone, or giving the articulation, 
two of the most important items in bird-music. 
A person may as easily have an idea of a per- 
fume which he has not smelled, or of a color 
which he has not seen, as of a bird's song 
which he has not heard. 

Some years since, a young and wealthy 
Cuban, then my pupil, brought to my room a 
beautiful music-box, which he had just received 
from Paris. It was small, easily carried in the 
pocket, elegantly carved with flowers and fruit, 
and was ornamented upon the top with a gold 
engraved plate, about the size of a half dollar. 
My friend wound up the mechanism and 
touched the spring. A few notes of prelude, 



17° CERTAIN SWEET SINGERS. 

and then a pause. The gold plate lifted itself, 
and a jeweled branch rose up, bearing a little 
bird. His shape, his attitude, were perfect; 
every feather was in its place. He seemed to 
sing, and as the tune flowed on, his tiny ivory 
bill opened and shut, and quivered in the trills, 
his head moved from side to side, his wings rose 
and fell, and even his feet appeared to clasp the 
branch closer as his body waved. In a few 
moments the song ended. With the last exult- 
ing note, the bird closed his wings, bowed his 
head, and bird and branch vanished under the 
closing lid. In all respects it was a piece of 
most exquisite workmanship, but it lacked the 
inimitable grace of the living bird, and its 
music was but the lifeless tinkle of the music- 
box. We peeped under . the edge of the lid, 
and there the bird lay upon its side, curiously 
folded away, indeed, a dead automaton. It 
was a wondrous specimen of delicate mechan- 
ism, but for its value as a bird, one living, 
breathing, warbling thrush were worth a thou- 
sand such. 



THE CANARY. Ijl 

JHE pANARY. 
Tribe — Conirostres — Having cone-shaped bills. 

The first bird which we shall mention is the 
Canary, Carduelis canaria. About three hun- 
dred years ago a ship which was bringing a 
large number of these birds from the Canary 
Isles, was wrecked on the coast of Elba, in the 
Mediterranean. The birds escaped, and set- 
tled themselves on shore. Some were caught 
by the people, and for their sprightliness 
and their fine singing, were much admired. 
They were soon carried to Italy, and from 
there all over Europe. The native color of 
the Canary is not the bright yellow which we 
commonly see, but a kind of dappled olive- 
green, black, and 3-ellow, either color being at 
times the most predominant. The Germans 
and the Tyrol ese take great pains in breeding 
Canaries, while societies for that purpose have 
existed in London for more than a hundred 
years. Amateurs distinguish more than thirty 
varieties, which are divided into two classes, 



I7 2 CERTAIN SWEET SINGERS. 

the Plain and the Variegated; the first are 
called Gay Spangles, and the latter Mealy 
Birds. The green, or mealy birds, are thought 
the strongest, and to have the best song. 
Those which are pure yellow are called Jon- 
quils. The tendency seems to be toward a 
return to the darker kinds, so that a green 
bird is often found in the nest even when 
two pure gay birds are mated. 

The birds are worthy of care and study for 
their sprightly temper, but they are chiefly val- 
ued for their loud and varied song, which is 
continued through most of the year. Some 
will even sing in the evening, if brought into 
the light. The melody of the song sometimes 
opens with that of the nightingale ; others begin 
like the skylark, and after running through a 
variety of modulations, end like the nightin- 
gale. Those which have this song are esteemed 
most; after them the English birds, which have 
learned the song of the wood-lark. Some have 
been taught to descend the scale of the octave 
in a clear, silvery tone, and to introduce a 
trumpet-like song. 



THE CANARY, 173 

Wood describes one which learned to talk. 
Its parents, finding it the only one hatched out 
of four eggs, neglected it, and began to build 
a second nest above it; it was, therefore, taken 
out of the cage and brought up by hand. As 
it was constantly talked to, when about three 
months old, it surprised its mistress by saying, 
"Kissie, kissie," and by making the sound of 
kissing. Afterward the little bird repeated 
other words, as, "Kiss dear Titchie," "Sweet 
pretty little Titchie," (its name), "Kiss sweet 
Minnie," and similar phrases. It did also 
whistle the first bar of " God save the Queen." 

In Germany the breeders of Canaries have a 
large house made for them, with a square space 
at each end, planted with trees; the birds may 
come out from the house through holes left 
for the purpose, and feed upon the seed, chick- 
weed, and other food provided for them. The 
interior of the house is kept dark, and bunches 
of broom are placed for the birds to build in. 
They may easily be bred without so much ex- 
pense; a large cage will answer very well. 



174 CERTAIN SWEET SINGERS. 

Particular care should be taken of the caged 
birds, in giving them regularly clean seed, fresh 
water, with enough for bathing, a supply of 
bone to aid their digestion, and a frequent 
taste of some fresh, green herb, as chickweed, 
or lettuce. The cage should be kept scrupu- 
lously clean, and the perches should be washed 
often, lest their feet become sore. If the birds 
seem dispirited and drooping, it is often caused 
by minute red mites, almost too small to be 
seen, which infest them, prevent their sleep, 
and destroy their health. If a cage be brought 
into a strong light in the evening and a white 
napkin thrown over it, in a few minutes they 
may be seen, tiny red spots on the cloth. 
They may be driven from the cage by scald- 
ing with hot water, or by applying neats-foot 
oil to every place where the insects can find 
shelter. The little block of wood at the top 
of a round wire cage, is usually a resort for 
them. A kind of powder is sold, which, when 
rubbed into the feathers of the bird, will de- 
stroy the vermin. 






THE SKT-LARK. 1 75 

Jhe JSky-J^ark. 
Tribe — Conirostres. — Having cone-shaped bills. 

The Sky-Lark, Alcmda arvensis, is a bird 
much praised by all English writers. Jeremy 
Taylor said " it did rise and sing as if it had 
learned music and motion from an angel." It 
sings while on the wing. At first, as it springs 
from the ground, its notes are low and feeble, 
but its music swells as it rises, and loug after 
the bird is lost to the eye it continues to charm 
the ear with its melody. Even then, a prac- 
ticed ear will know the motion of the bird by 
his song. It climbs up to the sky by a flight, 
winding like a spiral stair, constantly grow- 
ing wider. It gives a swelling song as it as- 
cends, and a sinking one as it descends; and 
if it takes but one turn in the air, that whirl 
is either upward or downward, and varies the 
pitch of the song. The natural impulse to 
throw itself up when it sings is so great, even 
when confined, that it leaps against the top of 
the cage, and would injure itself if the roof 



1 7^ CERTAIN S WEET SINGERS. 

were not covered with green baize to receive 
the shock. 

The nest of the Lark is concealed in some 
hollow in the ground large enough to hold it. 
Usually it is hidden by a tuft of grass or leaves, 
and by the quiet color of the dry grass, leaves, 
and hair, of which it is made. The bird does 
not seek the society of man, but is not much 
disturbed if he comes near. One sitting on 
her nest was passed over by the mower's 
scythe, which cut away all her concealment, 
but did not injure her. She did not fly, and 
a person who returned in an hour to see' if she 
was safe, found that she had built a dome over 
herself with dry grass, leaving an opening for 
passing in and out. 

A gentleman riding on horseback had a Lark 
drop suddenly upon the saddle before him, with 
wings outstretched, as if wounded to death. 
When he tried to lay his hands on it, it moved 
over the horse, and finally fell on the ground 
between the horse's feet. As the rider looked 
up, he saw a hawk ready to pounce upon the 



THE SKY-LARK. 177 

Lark, as soon as it should leave its place of 
refuge. Afterwards it again mounted the sad- 
dle, and at the first opportunity- flew into the 
hedge, and was safe. 

A pair of Larks had hatched a brood of 
young in a grass field. The grass had to be 
cut before the young ones could fly, and as 
the mowers approached the nest, the old birds 
were much alarmed. Finally, the mother laid 
herself flat on the ground with wings out- 
spread, and the father, by pulling and pushing, 
drew one of the young on her back. She flew 
away with that, and soon returned with an- 
other. This time the father took his turn, and 
thus they carried away all the young before 
the mowers reached the place. At another 
time a Lark attempted to carry away its young 
in its claws, but the little bird dropped from a 
'height of about thirty feet, and was killed. 
They have been known to carry away their 
eggs, grasping them with their two feet. 

In the spring and summer the Larks live 
in pairs, but in autumn they gather in large 



1 7 8 CER TAIN S WEE T SINGERS. 

flocks, and before snow falls they become very 
fat, when thousands are killed for market. The 
back of the bird is brown, blackish brown, and 
gray ; the lower parts dingy white. It is about 
seven inches long, the tail being three inches. 
In size it is about as large as a bob-o-link. 

Jhe JTightingale. 
Tribe — Dentirostres — Toothed-billed. 

Our next bird is the famed Nightingale, Ims- 
cinia philomela. It is unknown in America, 
but in England and throughout Europe it is 
deemed the prince of singers. In the even- 
ing, after most of nature's sounds are hushed, 
the Nightingale begins his song, and sings, 
with little rest, all the night. It rarely sings 
by day, and those kept in cages are often cov- 
ered with a cloth to make them sing. It is 
very shy; professed naturalists know but lit- 
tle of its habits. Mudie says : " I watched them 
very carefully for more than five years, in a 
place where they were very abundant, and at 



THE NIGHTINGALE. 1 7 9 

the end of that time I was — about as wise as 
at the beginning." 

The Nightingale begins to sing in England 
in April. Its music is loudest and most con- 
stant when it first comes, for then the males 
are singing in earnest rivalry to attract their 
mates. When the female has made her choice, 
her mate becomes much attached to her, and if 
he should be captured, pines and dies. But his 
song grows less, and after the eggs are hatched, 
it ceases altogether. The bird catchers try to 
secure the singers during the first week, for 
then by proper care they may be made to sing 
a long time. 

The song of the Nightingale can not be de- 
scribed, even though one gentleman has print- 
ed nearly half a page of what he calls a literal 
version of it. Here is a specimen : " Spe, tiou, 
squa, — Quio didl li lulylie — Lu ly li le lai la, 
leu lo, didl io quia !" Can you hear it ? 

The listener is astonished to hear a volume 
of sound so rich and full proceed from the 
throat of so small a bird. Besides its strength, 



i8o 



CERTAIN SWEET SINGERS. 



its delightful variety and exquisite harmony 
make its music most admirable. Sometimes 
it dwells on a few mournful notes, which begin 
softly, swell to its full power, and then die 
away. Sometimes it gives in quick succession 
a series of sharp, ringing tones, which it ends 
with the ascending notes of a rising chord. 
The birds which are free do not sing after 
midsummer, while those which are caged will 
often sing until November, or even until Feb- 
ruary. The young birds need to be under the 
training of some older one, and will often sur- 
pass their teacher; few become first-rate. 

The nest of the nightingale is not built in 
the branches, or in a hole, or hanging in the 
air, or quite on the ground, but is set very 
near it. It is not easily found, unless the 
movements of the bird betray it. The mate- 
rials are straw, grass, little sticks, and dried 
leaves, all jumbled together with so little art,, 
that one can hardly see it when it is right 
before him. If the same materials were seen 
*ny where else, they would seem to have been 



WHA T IZAAK WA L TON SAITH. 1 8 1. 

blown together by the wind, and stopped just 
there by a fork in the branches. There are 
four or five smooth, olive-brown eggs. The 
bird is about six inches long, and weighs three 
quarters of an ounce. Its colors are dark 
brown above, and greyish white below. 

Izaak Walton saith: "But the nightingale, 
another of my airy creatures, breathes such 
sweet, loud music out of her little instrumental 
throat, that it might make mankind to think 
that miracles are not ceased. He that at mid- 
night, when the very laborer sleeps securely, 
should hear, as I have very often, the clear 
airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and 
falling, the doubling and re-doubling of her 
voice, might well be lifted above earth, and 
say, Lord, what music hast thou provided for 
the saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad 
men such music on earth!" 



1 8 2 QER TAIN S WEE T SINGERS 

JHE yVLoCKING-^BlRD. 
Tribe — Dentirostres. 

Although America wants the Nightingale, 
the queen of English bird-song, we have an 
equally noted, and more wonderful singer, in 
the Mocking-bird, Mimus polyglottus. Every 
one who hears this bird is fascinated with its 
thrilling song^ Within its throat every bird 
seems to sing, for it can reproduce all their 
notes, from the soft twitter of the blue bird to 
the rich jargon of the thrush, or the shrill 
scream of the eagle. 

" Yes, they are all here ! Hear, then, each 
warble, chirp, and trill. How they crowd one 
upon another! You can hear the soft flutter 
of soft wings as they come hurrying forth ! 
Hark, that clear, rich whistle ! ' Bob White, is 
it you? 5 Then the sudden scream! is it a 
hawk? Hey! what a gush, what a rolling, 
limpid gush ! Ah, my dainty redbreast, at thy 
matins early? Mew! what, Pussy? No, the 



THE MOCKING-BIRD. I S3 

cat-bird; hear its low, liquid love-notes linger 
round the roses by the garden walk! Hillo! 
listen to the little wren ! he must nearly ex- 
plode in the climax of that little agony of trills 
which it is rising on its very tip-toes to reach ! 
"What now? Quack, quack! Phut, phut, 
phut ! Cock-doodle-doo ! What, all the barn- 
yard? Squeak, squeak, squeak, pigs and all. 
Hark, that melancholy plaint, Whip-poor-will, 
how sadly it comes from out the shadowy dis- 
tance ! What a contrast ! the red-bird's lively 
whistle, shrilly mounting high, higher, highest ! 
Hark the orchard oriole's gay, delicious, roar- 
ing, run-mad, ranting riot of sweet sounds! 
Hear that ! it is the rain-crow, croaking for a 
storm ! Hey day ! Jay, jay, jay ! it is the im- 
perial dandy blue-jay. Hear, he has a strange, 
round, mellow whistle, too! There goes the 
little yellow-throated warbler, the woodpecker's 
sudden call, the king-bird's woeful clatter, the 
the dove's low, plaintive coo, the owl's screech- 
ing cry and snapping beak, the tomtit's tiny 
note, the kingfisher's rattle, the crow, the 



184 CERTAIN SWEET SINGERS. 

scream, the cry of love, or hate, or joy, all 
come rapidly, in unexpected contrasts, yet with 
such clear precision that each bird is expressed 
in its own individuality." 

When the bird becomes acquainted with man, 
ne adds a new stock to his vast store of sounds. 
He imitates the bark of the dog, the harsh set- 
ting of saws, the whirring buzz of the mill- 
stone, the click-clack of the hoppers, the dull, 
heavy blow of the mallet, the fragments of 
song whistled by laborers or sung by milk- 
maids, the creaking of wheels, the neighing of 
horses, the baa of the sheep, the deep low of 
the oxen, and all the unnumbered variety of 
sounds produced by men. 

Besides all this, he has a song of his own. 
His own native notes, w 7 hich are distinct 
from all the others, are bold and full, and very 
varied. They consist of short phrases, of two 
three, or perhaps five or six notes; often inter- 
spersed with imitations, and all uttered with 
great rapidity and emphasis, and continued for 
half an hour at a time. Indeed, many think 



THE MOCKING BIRD. 1 85 

the imitations decidedly injure his song; for 
in the midst of the most inspiring strain, he 
will often turn aside to introduce some jarring, 
grating discord. While singing he spreads his 
wings, expands his tail, and leaps about hi? 
cage as if, in ecstasy, he would dance to his own 
music. 

Each bird is master in his own district. 
When one begins to sing, the others cease, or 
go so far away that their voices seem but the 
echo of his song. 

His nest is in some thick bush, and is care- 
fully concealed. While the female is sitting, 
the male watches with jealous care, and will 
not allow hawk or snake to come near. The 
black snake, which seeks for its eggs and 
young, is often driven away by this courage- 
ous bird. Dogs are forced to run away from 
its sharp beak, and a cat finds the ascent of 
the tree under the furious thrusts which are 
pecking her nose and blinding her eyes, a 
task too great for her endurance. 

The color of the mocking-bird is a dull 



1 86 CERTAIN SWEET SINGERS. 

brown, with a decided ashy tinge. The chin, 
throat, and under parts are pale brown, in- 
clined to gray. The male is known by the 
breadth and pure tint of the white band on 
the wings. His length is about nine inches. 




THE TRICOLOlTcRESTED COCKATOO. 

Oaeatua Leadbeateri. 



About Parrots. 



Vbrtebrata — Aves. 

Order — JScamores .— Climbers. 

Family — PsittacidcB. — Parrot-like. 




,ENEATH the luxuriant forests 
of tropical countries, where ani- 
mal life of every kind develops 
the most singular forms, and the 
most brilliant colors, the large 
and numerous family of Parrots 
is very conspicuous. Its various 
sub-families, Parrakeets, Parrots, 
Lories, Macaws, and Cockatoos, are distin- 
guished chiefly by variations in the form of 
beak or tail. All have large and strong beaks ; 
the upper mandible, or jaw, is curved very 



19° ABOUT PARROTS. 

much, shutting down over the lower mandible, 
and is sometimes very long. The tongue is 
short, thick, and fleshy ; its shape gives these 
birds their remarkable power of imitating 
human speech. 

The first branch, the Parrakeets, or Paro- 
quets, have small bodies and long tails. They 
dwell mostly in Australia, and the islands ad- 
jacent. 

A beautiful example is the Rose-hill Parra- 
keet of New South Wales and Van Diernan's 
Land, Platycercus eximius. The head, sides of 
the face, back of the neck, and breast, are 
glowing scarlet; the chin and upper part of 
throat are pure white ; the feathers of the back 
are very dark black-green, broadly edged with 
an exquisite hue of light green ; the wing- 
shoulders are shining lilac, mixed with black; 
many of the wing-plumes have a black-green 
centre, with golden-yellow edges, and a bright 
green spot at the tip ; the central tail feathers 
are dull green, the others lilac blue, darkest 
near the quills, and shading to almost white at 



THE GR O UND PARRAKEE T. 1 9 1 

the tips ; beneath the tail the feathers are light 
scarlet, and the under parts of the body are 
white, shading into light green. 

This bird eats a great variety of seeds and 
insects. It is hardy, and thrives in a cage. 
Its voice, a rather pleasant low whistle, is not 
harsh like that of many other parrots. In its 
home, it lives in the open country in little com- 
panies ; in certain localities it will be very 
abundant, and between them, for long distan- 
ces, not one will be found. 

The Ground Parrakeet, Pezophorus forrnosus. 
This bird has none of the gay colors of the 
former, yet is very pretty. Its barred plum- 
age, dark green above, mottled with yellow 
and black half-moon spots, and yellow beneath, 
similarly spotted, with long tail feathers alter- 
nately barred with red and green, — its habits, 
and its strong game odor, give it a marked 
resemblance to the pheasant, so that the Aus- 
tralian colonists call it by that name. On the 
ground it runs very swiftly, winding its way 
in and out among the stiff grass stems, so 



I<? 2 ABOUT PARROTS. 

shrewdly as to baffle almost any dog. As a 
last resource it takes flight, but soon alights 
again, and hides in the tufts of grass. Its 
flesh has a flavor equal to snipe, and almost 
to quail. Its white eggs are laid on the 
ground. 

Another elegant variety is the Ringed Par- 
rakeet, Palceornis iorquatus, a native of both 
Asia and Africa. The ancients brought this 
bird to Rome from Ceylon; ever since it has 
been a favorite cage-bird. Wood tells of one 
which was brought from India to London, 
through the kindness of an old weather-worn 
sailor, who took her into his berth, and warmed 
her in his bosom, while the others on board 
perished during the cold nights of the passage. 
Soon after her arrival, a great clattering was 
heard in the parlor, and Polly was found in 
a very talkative mood, riding about the room 
on the cat's back, while pussy marched on with 
the greatest gravity. It was her habit to sit at 
table on her master's shoulder; if she wanted 
any thing, she pecked at his ear ; if the wea- 



THE ROSE HILL PARRAKEET. 193 

ther was chilly, she climbed up by his whis- 
kers, and warmed her toes on his bald head. 

This bird does not speak very distinctly. It 
is very docile. One which was taken into a 
school room was at first so noisy as to stop all 
recitation. She was soon taught silence by 
banishment, at every transgression, into a dark 
closet. It became very amusing to see her 
stretch out her head to speak, and then, as 
she remembered, suddenly check herself. 

The general color of this bird is grass-green. 
The feathers on the head shade from green 
through blue to a fine purple at the nape of 
the neck. Just below the purple is a narrow 
band of rose color, and below that a streak of 
black, narrow at the back, and growing broader 
towards the front — hence the name torquatus, 
wearing a collar. The upper mandible is coral- 
red ; the lower, blackish. Its length is fifteen 
to eighteen inches, and its size that of a w~ild 
pigeon. 

The Macaws live mostly in South America, 
Their cheeks are without feathers, their tail- 



1 94 ABO UT PARR O TS. 

feathers long, their beaks large and strong. 
They usually dwell in forests, where the ground 
is swampy. They fly high, and oftenest perch 
on the tops of the tallest trees. Their colors 
are so varied and intricate that written state- 
ments give but feeble notions of their actual 
splendor. Among the most noted varieties, 
specimens of which are often seen in menage- 
ries, are the Red and Blue, Blue and Yellow, 
Scarlet, and Great Green Macaws. 

Waterton writes of the Red and Blue Macaw: 
" Superior in size and beauty to any Parrot 
of South America, the Ara will force you to 
take your eyes from the rest of animated nature 
and gaze at him. His commanding strength, 
the flaming scarlet of his body, the lovely vari- 
ety of red, yellow, blue and green in his wings, 
the extraordinary length of his scarlet and blue 
tail, seem all to join and demand for him the 
title of emperor of all the parrots. He is scarce 
in Demarara until you reach the confines of 
the Macoushi country; there he is in vast 



THE RED AND BLUE MAC A W. 195 

abundance; he mostly feeds on trees of the 
palm species. 

" "When the coucourite trees have ripe fruit 
on them, they are cover.ed with this magnifi- 
cent parrot. He is not shy or wary ; you may 
take your blow-pipe and a quiver of poisoned 
arrows, and kill more than you can carry back 
to your hut. They are very vociferous, and 
like the common Parrots, rise up in bodies 
towards sunset, and fly, two and two, to their 
places of rest. It is a grand sight in ornithol- 
ogy to see thousands of Aras flying over your 
head, low enough to let you have a full view 
of their flaming mantles. The Indians find 
their flesh very good, and the feathers serve 
for ornaments in their head dresses.'' 

A bird which should be included among the 
Macaws, is the Carolina Parrot, Conurus Caro- 
linensis, of North America. It dwells through- 
out the Southern States, and, according to Wil- 
son, may be found along all the tributaries of 
the Mississippi and the Ohio, as far north as 
Lake Michigan. On the Atlantic coast, it rare- 

Y 



19*> ABOUT PARROTS. 

ly goes farther north than Maryland. It is 
peculiarly fond of the burrs of the cockle, whose 
prickly hooks do so much mischief by clinging 
to and working into the fleeces of sheep; in 
some cases the wool is so filled with cockles 
that the trouble of cleaning it is more than its 
value. Besides these burrs, this Parrot eats 
beech-nuts, and the seeds of cypress trees. 

At the Big Bone Lick, on the Ohio river, 
about thirty miles from the mouth of the Ken- 
tucky, Wilson found them in great numbers ; 
they came to drink the salt water. On the 
ground they seemed to spread a carpet, gay 
with green, orange, and yellow; afterwards, on 
the boughs of a tree, which they appeared to 
cover entirely, they presented a most gorgeous 
appearance, as the sunlight was reflected from 
their brilliant plumage. 

"Having shot one of their number, the 
whole flock swept round repeatedly, and again 
settled on a low tree within tw r enty yards of 
the spot where I stood. At each discharge, 
though showers of them fell, the affection of 



WILSON'S PET. 197 

the survivors seemed to increase; for, after a 
few circuits, they again alighted near me, look- 
ing down on their slaughtered companions with 
such manifest sympathy and concern, as entire- 
ly disarmed me. They fly ^ery much like the 
wild pigeon, in close, compact bodies, and with 
great rapidity, making a loud and outrageous 
screaming, not unlike that of the red headed 
woodpecker. Their flight is usually circuitous, 
with a great variety of elegant and easy ser- 
pentine meanders, as if for pleasure. " 

One of those which he obtained at the Big 
Bone Lick he carried with him on his way to 
Louisiana. While he traveled by water, he 
kept it in a rude cage on his boat, but by land 
he wrapped it in a silk handkerchief, and 
carried it in his pocket. At meal times he 
unwound his prisoner and fed it; when he 
attempted to bind it again, a quarrel usually 
ensued, in which the bird, though forced to 
yield, often gave its master severe bites. The 
Indians among whom he traveled were much 
amused at his companion. In their language 



198 ABOUT PARROTS. 

they called it "Kelinky," but they soon learned 
the white man's name, Polly. 

At Natchez he procured a suitable cage, and 
hung it on a piazza. She soon called the pass- 
ing flocks ; they would often alight on the 
neighboring trees, and hold friendly chat with 
the prisoner. One was caught and put in the 
cage. Polly was delighted with her new com- 
panion. She crept close to it, as it hung by 
the bars of the cage, chattering to it in a low 
tone, as if sympathizing with its misfortune, 
scratched about its head and neck with her 
beak, and at night nestled as close as possible, 
often hiding her head in its feathers. The new 
bird died, and Polly mourned very much. A 
looking-glass was placed beside her, and all 
her fondness seemed to return. She was com- 
pletely deceived ; as night came on, and often 
by day, she would lay her head close to the 
image in the glass, and doze away, perfectly 
satisfied. During the passage from N~ew Or- 
leans the bird escaped from her cage, flew 
overboard, and was drowned. 



THE LORIES. 199 

The general color of the Carolina Parrot is 
green, washed with blue ; the forehead and 
cheeks, with spots on the head, shoulders, and 
wings are orange ; the primary wing-feathers 
are purplish black ; the wedge-shaped tail blue 
along the central line. Its entire length is 
about twenty-one inches. 

The Lories differ from the Macaws chiefly 
in their weaker bills and softer plumage. 
They are brilliantly colored ; are very active 
and gay, even in confinement. Their home is 
in the Molucca Islands, whence many are car- 
ried to Eastern Asia, to be kept as pets. 

As an example, we select the Purple-capped 
Lory, Lorius domieellus. The principal color of 
its plumage is rich scarlet ; the top of the 
head is deep purple, nearly black on the fore- 
head, and passing into violet at the back of 
the head; the upper part of the breast has a 
collar of yellow ; the wings are green above, 
changing to violet on the edges ; the tail fea- 
thers are scarlet near the quills, banded near 
the end with black, and tipped with yellow ; 



200 ABOUT PARROTS. 

the thighs are azure ; the beak orange-yellow. 
Although the tail is short, the bird is about 
eleven inches long. 

The true Parrots are known by their short, 
square tails, the absence of a crest, and the 
toothed edges of the upper mandible. 

The Grey Parrot is one of the best known. 
It learns easily, and talks much and distinctly. 
Its home is in Africa. The sailors who bring 
it thence delight to teach it bad language, 
which it never forgets, so that in spite of the 
most complete training it will often startle 
sober people by very wicked remarks. A 
Parrot which talks much, occasionally inserts 
its sentences where they are very amusing, 
and sometimes very apt. 

A Parrot belonging to a Portuguese gentle- 
man who had an English wife, would talk in 
both Portuguese and English, but would never 
confuse the two. If addressed in either lan- 
guage, it would always reply in the same. 
Towards dinner time it would become much 
excited, and cry very loud, u Sarah, lay the 



ANECDOTES. 201 

cloth — want my dinner!" Its master used 
to punish it for talking too loud ; so when his 
step was heard, Polly would get down upon 
the bottom of its cage very humbly, and lay- 
ing its head to the floor, whisper in its lowest 
tones, "Want my dinner! Sarah, make haste 
— want my dinner !" 

When ships of war are lying away from a 
wharf, or pier, ladies who wish to go on board 
are often taken up by what the sailors call a 
whip. This is an arm chair suspended by a 
rope; the lady sits in the chair, and the sail- 
ors hoist away. On one occasion, when the 
chair was half way up the ship's side, a Parrot 
on board suddenly called out, " Let go !" and 
the men, thinking it a real order, dropped the 
poor lady, chair and all, into the sea. 

One Parrot was accustomed to imitate the 
cries of a dog when run over by a wagon. 
First, there was the short, terrified yelp, when 
the dog found itself in danger ; then the shriek 
of pain, as foot or tail was caught by the wheel, 
and then the Ki-i 9 Ki-i, Ki-i, dying away as the 



204 ABOUT PARROTS. 

dog turned the corner and vanished up the 
street. Of course the bird had not many re- 
hearsals in learning this lesson. 

A Grey Parrot, mentioned by Mr. Wood, 
observed that her keepers were very fond of 
a pair of goldfinches, which they were in the 
habit of visiting frequently, and feeding with 
crumbs and seeds. Polly thought it proper to 
be in the fashion, so she went to her cage and 
brought a beak full of sopped bread to put in 
the nest. Presently the eggs were hatched, 
and Polly was delighted, but her way of show- 
ing her pleasure was so earnest, that the parent 
birds were frightened away. Seeing the little 
ones deserted, she took them into her own 
charge, stayed with them by night and by day, 
fed them, even opening their bills and thrust- 
ing food down their throats, and brought them 
up. When able to hop about, four would get 
upon her back, and the fifth on her head, and 
thus laden, Polly would walk gravely up and 
down the lawn, or now and then fly a little 
way, putting all the ten little wings in a flutter. 



A FOSTER-MOTHER. 205 

By and by the birds were fully fledged, 
flew away, and came back no more. Polly 
was disconsolate, but presently found relief in 
adopting the brood of a hedge sparrow. These 
she got somehow upon her back, and carried 
away to her own cage. One of the parents 
had been killed, perhaps by a hawk; the other 
Polly managed to scrape acquaintance with. 
At first she talked a mixed jargon of English, 
swearing, and bird-talk, but the language of 
the birds seemed to overpower the human 
speech, and the two shortly understood each 
other perfectly well. 

The color of this bird is elegant ashy grey, 
darker above and lighter beneath ; the tail is 
bright scarlet ; the bill black. 

A beautiful little Parrot, about six inches 
long, of a general grass-green color, is known 
as Swindern's Love-Bird. A pair — a single 
one soon droops and dies — sit lovingly side 
by side, caressing and frequently feeding each 
other in a way that looks quite like kissing. 

The Cockatoos have the short, square tails, 



206 



ABOUT PARROTS. 



and strong beaks of the parrots, and some rival 
the great size of the macaws ; Their distinct- 
ive feature is a crest of elegant feathers, which 
the owner can raise or depress at will. A spe- 
cies which in other respects is classed among 
the parrakeets, is called the Parrakeet Cocka- 
too. They are generally natives of Australia 
and adjacent islands, dwelling in the woods, 
and living on seeds and fruits. They nest in 
decayed trees. When taken young they are 
easily tamed, and become quite talkative. 

The Great White or Broad-crested Cockatoo, 
Cacatua cristatus. This bird is about the size 
of a common fowl, and it seems much larger 
when, excited by fear or anger, it ruffles up its 
feathers. Its plumage is white, tinged with 
rose-color; its white crest consists of long fea- 
thers arching over* its head. 

The Great Sulphur-crested Cockatoo, C. gal- 
erita, measures more than two feet in length. 
Its color is white, tinged about the wing covers 
and the sides of the tail, with yellow. Its head 
wears a long, broad, pointed crest of fine sul- 



PRACTICAL JOKING. 207 

phur yellow. Its bill is black. The same 
description answers equally well for the smaller 
Sulphur-crested Cockatoo, C. sulphureus, except 
that the length is only about fifteen inches. 

With their strong beaks these birds easily 
crack nuts and extract the kernel, or break the 
shells of snails and periwinkles, and pick out 
the inhabitants. One kept in a cage was fond 
of biting in pieces bits of wood which it could 
get hold of. It would anxiously watch the 
removal of the thread from a cotton reel, and 
when the empty spool was placed outside its 
cage, it would come down from its perch, 
thrust its foot between the bars, reach this way 
and that until it found the toy, draw it into 
the cage, and bite it to bits. 

Sometimes the Cockatoo shows a fondness 
for practical joking. A lady had shown some 
fear of one, caused by its strong beak. The 
bird discovered that she was afraid, and 
thought it fine sport, whenever this lady came 
near its perch, to ruffle up its feathers, yell, 
and pretend to attack her, just to hear some- 



208 ABOUT PARROTS. 

thing so much bigger than itself scream, and 
to see it run away. 

The beautiful bird shown in the engraving 
is called the Tricolor-crested, or the Pink, or 
Leadbeater's Cockatoo, C. Leadbeateri. Its 
splendid crest is remarkable for its size, and 
for a power which the bird has of raising it 
like a fan, as in the picture, or of laying it 
flat upon its head. The long, pointed fea- 
thers which compose it are crimson at the 
base, then crossed by a broad band of sulphur- 
yellow, then by crimson again, and tipped 
w T ith white. The neck, breast, sides, and 
under surface of the wing are deeply stained 
with crimson. 

In the chapter on Kangaroos, Beasts, page 
167, we described the boomerang, and the 
skill which the native Australians display in 
using it against that animal. They make it 
no less serviceable in hunting Cockatoos. 

Capt. Grey writes : " Perhaps as fine a sight 
as may be seen in the whole circle of native 
sports is the killing Cockatoos with the kiley, 



CATCHING COCKATOOS. 209 

or boomerang. A native' perceives a large 
flight of Cockatoos in a forest which encircles 
a lagoon ; the expanse of water affords an open 
clear space above it, unencumbered with trees, 
but which raise their gigantic forms all around, 
more vigorous in their growth from the damp 
soil in which they flourish ; and in their leafy 
summits sit a countless number of Cockatoos, 
screaming and flying from tree to tree, as they 
make their arrangements for a night's sound 
sleep. 

" The native throws aside his cloak, so that 
he may have not even this slight covering to 
impede his motions, draws his kiley from his 
belt, and, with a noiseless, elastic step, ap- 
proaches the lagoon, creeping from tree to tree, 
from bush to bush, and disturbing the birds as 
little as possible ; their sentinels, however, take 
the alarm. The Cockatoos farthest from the 
water fly to the trees near its edge, and thus 
they keep concentrating their forces as the 
native advances ; they are aware that danger 
is at hand, but are ignorant of its nature. 



2IO ABOUT PARROTS. 

"At length, the pursuer almost reaches the 
edge of the water, and the scared Cockatoos, 
with wild cries, spring into the air; at the 
same instant the native raises his right hand 
high over his shoulder, and bounding forward 
with his utmost speed for a few paces, to give 
impetus to the blow, the kiley quits his hand 
as if it would strike the water, but when it has 
almost touched the unruffled surface of the 
lake, it spins upward with inconceivable velo- 
city, and with the strangest contortions. In 
vain the terrified Cockatoos strive to avoid it ; 
it sweeps wildly and uncertainly through the 
air, and so eccentric are its motions, that it 
requires but a slight stretch of the imagination 
to fancy it endowed with life, and with fell 
swoops in rapid pursuit of the devoted birds, 
some of whom are almost certain to be brought 
screaming to the earth. 

"But the wily savage has not yet done with 
them. He avails himself of the extraordinary 
attachment which these birds have for one 
another, and fastening a wounded one to a 



UNDESIRABLE PE TS. 211 

tree, so that its cries may induce its compan- 
ions to return, he watches his opportunity, by 
throwing his kiley or spear, to add another 
bird or two to the booty he has already ob- 
tained." 

All things considered, the parrot does not 
seem to be a desirable pet. Many, it is true, 
are gorgeously, , or, rather, gaudily attired; 
they are rare, and therefore costly, and, there- 
fore, to many, valuable. But their voices are 
harsh ; the sentences which they learn become 
painfully monotonous from constant repetition; 
the laugh which they acquire is hollow and 
weird. A bird in your house which can talk, 
laugh, scold, and swear, does not seem to be a 
friend and companion, but rather an imp, a 
witch, familiar with evil spirits, if not actually 
possessed by them. Anecdotes may be multi- 
plied concerning their queer sayings and do- 
ings, but they almost always describe some 
which lived long ago, or far away. A quiet 
man, studiously disposed, who unfortunately 
lives next door to a thorough-bred talker, soon 



212 ABOUT PARROTS. 

comes to wish every member of the family 
back in Africa, or Australia, or some equally 
remote land, with some Mede-and-Persian law 
against their leaving home. How much more 
lovable and lovely our native birds, whose 
graceful forms, beautiful plumage, and jubilant 
singing, enlivens our forest, prairie, and village 
homes ! 



About 



Pur p 



ICKIE. 




> OU never heard of our Dickie ? 
Quite likely. There had been 
many Dickies before, and there 
are many left, but none were, or 
are, like Our Dickie. When you 
hear his story, I am sure you will 
agree with me that Our Dickie 
was a rare little fellow. This is 
the story : 

But first you must know where we live, and 
how we came to have a Dickie. Now our 
home is in a homely — that is, homelike — old 
house, that nestles in the shadow of some grand 
oak trees on the high shore of Lake Michigan. 
In winter, the winds moan among the naked, 
shivering branches of the gray old trees, but in 



zi6 



ABOUT OUR DICKIE. 



summer the sunshine peeps cheerily through 
their gnarled tops, and dances gaily on the 
green turf below, while the birds nestle in their 
thick foliage; the woodpeckers rattle at the 
dry limbs, and look out from their holes in the 
mossy trunks ; the vireos whistle from their 
sprays; the blue-birds, and yellow-birds, and 
flame-colored orioles flash hither and thither 
through their branches; the robins build in 
their forks; the jays scream and scold about the 
fallen acorns; the nuthatches and the wrens 
creep up and down and athwart the bark, and 
the sparrows are every where at home. Here, 
if nowhere else, the birds find an asylum. The 
children love to greet their coming, and to 
watch their quaint ways. No noise of gun, no 
stone or arrow, ever disturbs their work. 

From the rear of the garden the ground falls 
away fifty feet, as steep as sand and clay will 
stand, down to the pebbly margin of the lake; 
and here, in the face of the steep bank, in the 
tufts of sedge, and thickets of willow, in great 
groves of growing hemp, and clumps of thistles 



THE SPARROW'S FRAUD, 2*7 

and golden-rod, the birds are still at. home. 
The bank-swallows dig holes in the earth ; the 
kingfisher sits and watches his finny prey; the 
sparrows make their nests; while in the waters 
below the wild ducks paddle and dive, and 
above, the gulls spread their white and gleam- 
ing sails. 

One July day, while we were searching the 
bank for some peculiar plants, a sparrow flut- 
tered away from us in great apparent distress. 
She seemed to be hurt; as if a leg or wing, we 
could not tell which, was badly wounded, and 
so one could almost put his hand on her as she 
floundered away through the weeds. Almost, 
but never quite; pretty soon, when she had 
drawn us away a few rods, suddenly she was 
healed; she sat on a twig, bobbed this way 
and that, whistled a chirp or two, and then 
flew away as contentedly as possible. 

Then we knew what a pious fraud the little 
actor had been playing upon us. Somewhere 
in that bunch of golden-rod and rank grass, she 
had hidden her nest, and by all this fluttering 



2l8 ABOUT OUR DICKIE. 

show of broken wing she had hoped to ent 

us away from her darlings, to avert the great 
peril which threatened them. And so, having, 

she thought, finished the deception, she flew 
away, while we went back to the bush, and 
found out her secret. 

Her house she had builded of grass, and 
cushioned with hair. It was $et about two 

: from the ground, among the rank weeds, 
just where she could peep out between the 
leaves and twigs, and observe all who passed 
or approached her home. In the nest were 
three tiny birds — one little, one less, one least 
of all — with one addled egg. From this it 
appeared that the sparrow, like the canary, 
begins to sit as soon as the first egg is laid. 
The four esr^s, laid at intervals of one or two 
days, are hatched in succession, and birds of 

r eral sizes are found in the same nest. Thus 
a week's time is saved. 

The little birds were merely wads of red 
oe&t, covered with folds of wrinkled skin; 
they had sprawling, useless legs, and long, thin 



THE YOUNG BIRDS. 2ig 

necks, which carried each a round, bald head, 
with blind bunches where eyes should be, and 
beaks that gaped voraciously. Feathers were 
not; a few scattered hairs, together with the 
beginnings of quills at the edges of the wings, 
were the only clothing of these naked bodies. 
As we jarred the bush, the three necks thrust 
up three yawning mouths, waited an instant, 
and then sank down again ; another jar 
brought them up again, but we had nothing 
to put in them, and so went away, not failing 
to observe the anxious mother, who had re- 
turned, and was watching us in great tribula- 
tion on a near bush. 

When we were safely off, she flew to the 
nest, and, as I imagine, concluded that we were 
not very dangerous dragons, for at subsequent 
visits, she merely flew to the bush, without 
repeating the fiction of the broken wing. Two 
or three times next day I visited the nest and 
fed the little eager mouths with bits of moist- 
ened bread, which the birds seemed to swallow 
with intense satisfaction, while the mother 



220 ABOUT OUR DICKIE. 

made no special demonstration of alarm. 1 
began to think I had established a pleasant 
intimacy with the family. 

Late the third day I visited my new friends, 
and then things were in sad confusion. Some 
stray cow had eaten away all the cover of 
weeds, and left the brood without shelter under 
the scalding rays of the sun. Worse than all, 
the mother was no where to be seen, and the 
hungry mouths screamed for food. I waited 
and watched, but she came no more. I con- 
cluded that she must have been killed, for I 
could hardly believe that she had been fright- 
ened away permanently, so I took nest and 
birds and carried them to the chamber where 
I was writing these bird-sketches for my little 
friends. 

Here, then, was a task before me, to rear 
up this little deserted family. The first thing 
was to find suitable food; but one can hardly 
go astray in giving bread moistened with milk to 
young birds. The first thing which I observed 
was the utter helplessness of the little crea- 



FEEDING LITTLE BIRDS. 221 

tures. They seemed to have no sense save that 
of feeling, or, more exactly, of motion. Their 
eyes were quite closed ; no noise, whistle, or 
chirp which I made aroused them, but the 
slightest jar given to the nest, or to the table 
on which it stood, brought up the three heads 
in an instant, with mouths open wide, and 
uttering a hissing kind of squeak. It was not 
enough to put the crumbs of bread into their 
moutli3. The base of the tongue has a sort 
of barb, like that of a fish-hook, which projects 
back into the throat, and a pair of similar barbs 
are in the roof of the mouth. If the food were 
not thrust so far into the throat as to be caught 
by these barbs, it was thrown away with a flirt. 
This did not seem to be because the bird did 
not like the food, for it swallowed it eagerly 
when pushed farther into its throat, unless it 
had taken enough ; then it would throw it 
away. 

They ate every half hour during the day, if 
food was given so often ; if left two hours, the 
heads were all up and screaming. After twi- 



222 ABOUT OUR DICKIE. 

light they were quiet until early dawn, and 
then there was no peace until somebody got 
up and fed them. 

In a few days, the largest one, which we had 
called Dickie, began to get his eyes open, and 
to look about. He soon learned the whistle 
which was given when he was fed, and gave an 
answering chirp — tsip, isip. One day, after his 
allowance of crumbs, he still opened his mouth 
and cried, but yet threw the bread away. In 
doubt as to what he wanted, I dipped my finger 
into water which stood by, and let the drop fall 
into his throat. It was just the thing ; the 
drop was eagerly swallowed, and the open beak 
screamed for more. Two or three drops were 
enough, and the bird nestled away, satisfied. 

Was this want natural, or was it caused by 
the peculiar nature of its food ? There seemed 
to be moisture enough in the milk with which 
the bread was soaked. Do the old birds bring 
water to their young when in the nest ? This 
nest was near enough to water for such a pur- 
pose ; and any where a supply could be had 



HIS FOOD. 223 

from dew drops ; but I have never seen any 
statement of naturalists to this point, and had 
always supposed such a carrying of water im- ' 
possible. Certain it is, that before my birds 
were able to feed themselves, I gave them, once 
or twice a day, 'two or three drops of water, 
which they swallowed greedily, and for which 
they clamored, if by chance it was forgotten. 

When I found small caterpillars, I fed them 
to my birds. They ate them gladly, but I 
could not spare the time to search for that kind 
of diet, and quite likely for this reason, the 
youngest died in two or three days, and the 
next at the end of the second week. Dickie 
seemed perfectly healthy ; he grew rapidly, and 
soon was cohered with feathers. 

From the presence of the egg in the nest, 
and the sizes of the birds, I supposed that 
Dickie had been hatched about a week when 
I adopted the family, so he must have been 
about three weeks old when I found him 
sprawling on the floor, and scolding most ear- 
nestly. Thinking that he had fallen out of the 



224 ABOUT OUR DICKIE. 

nest by chance, I put him back again, but soon 
found that he was no longer to be cribbed or 
confined in any such limited quarters. The 
nest was too small for his expanding ideas, and 
he had started to see the world. Afraid to 
have him loose, I put him in' an old cage, but 
that did not suit at all ; he went out between 
the wires without the slightest trouble. So I 
was forced to let him wander about the room 
as he pleased, and here began our more inti- 
mate and amusing acquaintance. He was not 
pretty as birds go ; he was only little, brown, 
and ragged ; he had no song, except his con- 
stant chirp, but he became a most entertaining 
companion. 

When Dickie was five weeks old, he was tol- 
erably well feathered, could perch securely, and 
fly about the room. He would feed himself if 
quite hungry, but much preferred to be fed. 
His favorite perch was a round of the chair in 
which I sat writing ; to this place he would 
retire after a full meal, and sit for an hour, or 
until he was hungry again. Other places of 



HIS CHIRP. 225 

about equal merit were my knee or my shoul- 
der ; these he sometimes seemed to prefer, 
because warm to his feet, and here he would 
sit, his feathers raised into a puffy ball, his 
crest up, and himself looking about as if the 
world, his oyster, were already opened, and he 
thoroughly happy with the contents. 

Wherever he was, by day or night, he always 
answered my call — the chirp that I used when 
feeding him — by his own cheerful chirp: a 
second or third call was sure to bring him hop- 
ping or flying to my finger. In the night, 
when asleep, with his head under his wing, he 
answered my call with a very gentle, sleepy 
chirrup, but without taking his beak from 
under the feathers. When he had been left 
alone, his joy at the return of a friend was 
without bounds. His chirp answered the first 
step, on the stair, and when the door opened, 
he came flying from even the most distant cor- 
ner of the room, and alighted on the hand or 
the head of his visitor with screams of delight. 

Strangers, particularly children, he was a 



226 



ABOUT OUR DICKIE. 



little afraid of, and would retire to his master, 
but lie soon made acquaintance. To take him 
up, one had only to put his finger before him, 
and he would instantly step on it ; we used to 
amuse ourselves by making him walk up stairs 
from finger to finger. 

He was much attracted by writing. He fol- 
lowed the pen 6r pencil continually from side 
to side of the paper, pecking at the point, and 
often trying to pick the letters off the paper. 
A pin, in a cushion, or between the leaves of a 
book, aflbrded him much diversion ; he would 
work patiently many minutes to pull it out. 
Often, as he ran about over my writing, we had 
mock skirmishes together. The pencil would 
be laid gently on his toes ; this he would an- 
swer by two or three sharp pats with the dis- 
turbed foot, a retreat, and then a quick return 
to the sport — for such he deemed it — never 
showing any sign of fear, or distrust. 

He would allow no approach from behind ; 
quick as a flash he would face about, and con- 
front his pursuer. So, too, while he would at 



HIS SLEEPING-PLACE, 227 

any time mount the finger, if one tried to cover 
him with the open hand, just as the hand was 
about to close upon him, he usually stepped 
aside, saying by his saucy air, " no you don't." 

At night, he usually retired to the open cage, 
and placed himself on its highest perch, under 
the shelter of its roof. If by accident the cage 
w r as shut, he mounted its ridge. One night, 
at bed time, he was not to be found. 
-Next morning early he was clamorous for his 
breakfast. He had slipped out through the 
blind, and spent the night in an oak tree, but 
was glad to come back again. Usually the 
window and blind near my writing desk were 
open, and he hopped about the sill, seldom 
offering to go out, and always ready to return 
when called. 

His food continued to be bread and milk, 
with occasionally some boiled egg ; rice was 
acceptable, and rice pudding peculiarly so. In- 
sects of any kind he devoured eagerly. Flies 
he helped himself to. A dragon-fly busied 
him for a long time. He broke off bit by bit, 



228 



ABOUT OUR DICKIE. 



thumped away at the head and thorax until he 
had broken their hard shells, and could swallow 
them, and rejected the wings as too husky for 
his stomach. Spiders were a luxury. I took 
him in my hand to a place in the open air 
where the spiders had woven their geometrical 
webs over a long balustrade, and even while a 
close prisoner, he cleared the whole railing. 

In early autumn, my duties calling me to the 
city, I took Dickie with me. He at once made 
himself at home in his new quarters. During 
the day I left him in the cage ; on my return at 
night, I gave him the freedom of the room. 
The confinement did not seem to annoy him, 
but his delight at companionship was evident. 

It was not convenient, in our new home, to 
supply him with insects, and his health suf- 
fered. By day he was sprightly enough, but in 
the evening, as soon as he went to sleep, he 
fell from his perch. Then he would pick him- 
self up in great astonishment, and immediately 
climb to the topmost perch in the cage, to go to 
sleep and fall again. I took out the highei 



HIS FRIGHT. 229 

perches, but the low ones did not satisfy ; he 
climbed to the top and held on the wires. Out- 
side the cage, so long as there was a light in 
the room, the only place where he was content 
was on the top of my head ; the shoulder would 
not do, because the head was higher. 

One night, just before putting out my light, 
I placed Dickie on a stand within reach of the 
bed. When it was dark, I spoke to him and 
he answered ; I put out my hand and touched 
him. Instantly he sprang from his place and 
fell on the floor. I spoke to him again to reas- 
sure him, and felt for him in the darkness, in 
order to put him back again on the stand, but 
the instant I touched him, with a terribly fright- 
ened scream, such as I had never before heard 
from him, he fled away. He would not answer 
my call, but when the light was brought, with 
a great cry he flew to my hand, overjoyed at 
his escape from the terrible unknown danger 
which had come so near him in the darkness. 

Up to this time he had always taken what- 
ever I had offered him to eat, and if, by way 



230 ABOUT OUR DICKIE. 

of joke, I had given him a bit of stick, he aim- 
ply threw it away, as if saying, " You know I 
can't eat that !" As advised by some writer on 
bird-keeping, I mixed a quantity of pepper with 
his food. The first morsel he took as a matter 
of course, but the turn of his head said, " What 
vile stuff is that?" The next he took, tasted, 
and threw away. The next he would not 
touch, so I had to open his beak and give his 
medicine by force. He did not resent it par- 
ticularly, and took the drops of water I offered 
him kindly ; but next morning, when I brought 
his breakfast, his manner said quite plainly, 
" You cheated me before, and I can't trust you 
now !" However, hunger was on my side ; he 
ventured finally to try a cramb, and finding 
that all right, forgave the affront, and went on 
with his meal. 

One evening, while busy, I heard him fall 
from his perch into his bathing dish, but as 
this had happened before without harm, I 
thought no more of it; afterward, not hearing 
the usual flutter which he made in shaking the 



HIS GHOST, 231 

water from his feathers, I went to his cage, and 
found the bird dead in his bath. One could 
not help sorrow for so entertaining a pet, 
though of no more consequence than a spar- 
row 7 . In manifold cerements of soft paper we 
laid him away, and put the vacant cage out of 
sight. 

And now comes in the supernatural. It 
might, perhaps, be expected that a bird so 
remarkable while living should make some 
ghostly manifestation after so tragic a fate, yet 
who would suppose that the ghost of a sparrow 
would revisit the scene where he had chirped 
out his little life ? As has been related, when- 
ever anj- one came to the room where Dickie 
was alone, he made great show of gladness, 
chirping, and if free, flying to the head or hand 
of his visitor. So, after he was dead, as we 
opened the door, and stepped into the room, 
the same familiar chirp was often heard. Sev- 
eral persons observed it. It did not come from 
the door, for we oiled the hinges, and the door 
opened noiselessly. It was never heard when 

2A 



23 2 ABOUT OUR DICKIE. 

we left the room, but only occasionally, as we 
entered, and usually when we were not think- 
ing of it, or expecting it. It was no night- 
walking ghost ; it came honestly, in broad day- 
light. 

Alas, for our veritable ghost story ! A few 
weeks passed, and we discovered that one 
board, when trod on in a peculiar place before 
the door, uttered a sharp creak, quite like poor 
dead Dickie's chirp. The precise place which 
made the sound was where one might step 
when coming into the room, but not on 
going out. The mystery had descended to a 
very commonplace fact, but I make no doubt 
that Dickie's ghost was as veritable an exist- 
ence as any of those more pretentious goblins 
which have, 

" in complete steel, 
Revisited the glimpses of the moon, 
Making night hideous." 

The sprightly, playful, affectionate nature of 
my little bird, his thorough domestication, and 



ENGLISH SPARRO WS. ^33 

trustful confidence, endeared him to us all. 
Such is the story of Our Dickie. 

The family of Sparrows contains many spe- 
cies, and is abundant on both sides of the 
Atlantic. The English Sparrow, the only one 
which has found his way into general literature, 
is quite different from our American varieties, 
both in form and in habits. His shape is 
stouter, and his coloring, a mixture of white, 
brown, gray, and black, not easily described, is 
more varied. He gathers in large flocks, is 
equally at home in country or town, and alike 
fearless in the presence of man, or of largei 
birds and quadrupeds. When the Crystal Pal 
ace was built in Hyde Park, London, in 1851, 
the sparrows which swarmed into the enclosure 
through the ventilators gave very serious trou- 
ble, and were finally banished by a few sparrow 
hawks. 

The Sparrows breed very fast, raising sev- 
eral broods in a single season. In a province 
of Prance they were all destroyed by order of 



234 ABOUT OUR DICKIE. 

government; the neit year even the green 
trees were killed by caterpillars. Besides great 
numbers of worms and grubs, the Sparrows 
eat the seeds of many noxious plants, as 
dandelion, and thistle. These valuable quali- 
ties are shared by most of our small birds, and 
all richly deserve protection. A few ye 
since, a number of English Sparrows were im- 
ported for the Central Park in Xew York. 
They at once settled themselves in their new 
quarters, and have since so multiplied as to be 
common in all that part of the city and in adja- 
cent towns. 

Of American Sparrows, which children call 
" chip-birds," there are many species, which 
differ so little that only expert naturalists can 
distinguish them. 



INSECTS. 



235 




ANTS AT WORK. 




™P' 





HIVE BEES MAKING AND LAYING WAX. 

A. Queen Bee ; B. Male ; C. Worker ; D. Bees clustering to make Wax ; E. Bees 
iaying and Sculpturing Wax ; F. Comb with Empty, Full, and Queen Cells. 



About Ants. 



Branch — Artieulata — Consisting of rings, or joints. 

Class — Insects — Having bodies divided into two or three distinct parts. 

Order — Hymenoptera — Having membranous wings. 

Family — • Formicaria — Ant family. 




J you ever find yourself, some 
dreamy summer day, with no- 
thing to do ? The hot, dense 
rays of the July sun scoich the 
dry grass, glow in the burning 
sand, and almost hiss in the 
water of the idle stream. The 
birds hide in the dense thickets, 
the cattle pant in the shade, and the very dog 
wishes he could take his jacket off. The straw- 
berry leaves crisp in the heat, and rest upon 



12 ABOUT ANTS. 

the ground ; the corn curls its green blades, 
and turns blue; the portulaccas shut their cups; 
the pansies hang their heads ; even the giant 
sunflower droops his broad leaves, and the cab- 
bages perspire. It is too warm to work, or to 
read, or to play. The boy has exhausted all 
his own plans for fun, and in despair asks his 
mother, " What shall I do ?" 

I'll tell you what to do. Find an ant-hill 
in some shady place, where the sun will not 
burn your back, lie down upon your face, and 
watch it. You have passed such a thousand 
times, without knowing what curious things 
could be seen there. The little fellows worked 
all the morning, and brought up out of that 
hole in the middle, all the grains of sand that 
you see piled around in a tiny, circular fortress. 
One by one they brought them out and laid 
them in their places. Now they are thoroughly 
warmed by the sun, and they are carrying 
them back again, into the rooms which they 
have excavated below. If there is a flat stone 
near, turn it over, and you will quite likely 



THEIR CITIES. 1 3 

find a much busier crowd. A large chamber, 
with many winding passages running hither 
and thither, and connecting with each other, 
and with other passages underneath, has been 
made, like the public square and the thronged 
streets of an old fashioned city. It is not like 
the exact, right-angled, stiff, modern town, but 
the lanes turn in and out, and yet go on with 
persevering directness towards some particular 
spot which was not down in the original plan, 
although a point of much consequence. Scat- 
tered all along the thoroughfares of this stone- 
canopied town, and quite plenty in the grand 
square, are many long, round, white some- 
things, a little like grains of wheat. People 
have mistaken these things for the food of the 
ants, and so have written, 

"The little ant, for one poor grain, 
Doth tug, and toil, and strive." 

But the ants lay up no food. They need none; 
for as soon as the hard frosts of autumn chill 
them, they lie down to sleep till the spring 



H ABOUT ANTS. 

wakes them again. If they did lay up food, it 
would not be grain, for the ant can no more 
eat grain than a man can eat gold, and the ant 
is not so big a fool as to hoard what he can not 
use. 

Others have thought that these little white 
sacks are the eggs of the ants ; but eggs do 
not grow, and surely ants can not lay eggs that 
are larger than themselves. Whatever they 
are, the ants evidently think them very valua- 
ble. Away they go, over the clumps of earth, 
and through the tiny streets, as if to see what 
has happened, and estimate the damage. They 
don't quite understand it, but they are agreed 
that one thing is to be done forthwith — these 
precious little sacks must be carried in, out of 
danger. So each grasps the nearest, and drags 
it away to the hole in the centre, the gateway 
of the inner town, where you see the throng 
coming out. The sack is larger than the ant, 
but he seizes it resolutely, and raises it over 
his head. Away he creeps, but it strikes 
that block of sand at the street corner, and 



THEIR COCOON-SACKS. 15 

he can not lift it over. He lays it down 
and pulls the end of it round; that obsta- 
cle is past, but another is beyond. A second 
worker comes, and the two, by pulling at one 
end and lifting at the other, have brought it to 
the gate. Surely they can not get it through 
that narrow and crooked passage. One has 
gone below, and the sack shuts him from sight. 
The other tugs and pulls. It will not move. 
Yes, it does ; see that end rise in the air ; now 
it sinks in the hole ; now it is out of sight. 
But here comes another, and another. All are 
hurrying to the numerous stairways to the city 
below, and in a short time all will have van- 
ished. 

These sacks contain the young ants. The 
eggs were laid by the queen, and hatched 
by the warmth, of the hot grains of sand. 
The grubs were fed, and grew, and finally 
shut themselves up in the sacks, as the cat- 
erpillar spins a cocoon, or the beetle-grab 
sheds his coat and becomes a chrysalis. Then 
the ants take great care of these sacks. They 



i6 



ABOUT ANTS. 



are very precious to them because they contain 
their children. If the air is damp and cold, or 
the rain falls, they carry them down into the 
lower rooms, and keep them warm. If the sun 
is warm and bright, they are brought where 
the warmth may be felt, without making them 
too dry. If they happen to be exposed, we 
have seen how they are hurried to a place of 
safety. If you should carefully dig down into 
the earth, you would find the underground city 
very extensive, the long, winding galleries lying 
tier after tier beneath each other, and leading 
to large apartments, where the ants and their 
children find room. 

Three kinds of ants come out of these cocoon- 
sacks. There are males, which have four 
wings ; females, which are much larger, and 
have two wings; and a third kind, called work- 
ers, or nurse-ants, which have no wings. After 
midsummer the several kinds may often be 
seen very busy about an ant hill, the winged 
ants trying to get away, and the workers bring- 
ing them back as often as they can find them. 



HOW THEY FOUND COLONIES. 1 7 

The males seem to be worthless fellows, and 
soon disappear. They have no sting to protect 
themselves with, and no jaws to help them get 
a living. 

Some of the females are caught by the work- 
ers, and taken back to the nest. Others wan- 
der away with a few followers and found new 
colonies, while others stray away by themselves, 
going out into the wide world alone. When 
one alights, she examines the new land which 
she has discovered, to see if it is fit for a home. 
If she is satisfied, she turns back her head, bites 
off her wings at the shoulders, and settles down 
for life. Her wings carried her from her moth- 
er's house to her new home, and henceforth her 
journeying is ended. Then she begins to hol- 
low out a chamber for herself. Even if she has 
workers with her, she continues to toil until she 
has laid eggs; then she is recognized and hon- 
ored as a queen. If alone, she has to continue 
her toil until the young from her own eggs 
make a colony about her. The grubs, when 
hatched, are fed by the nurse-ants, or by the 



i8 



ABOUT ANTS. 



mother, with food prepared in the stomach, 
and the solitary insect has much to do, to find 
food for herself and her hungry family. 

Ants eat various substances, particularly such 
as are juicy, or contain sugar. They kill and 
eat weaker insects, and they are very fond of 
ripe, sweet fruit. One may be sure they will 
always choose the best. If the pioneers can 
not eat the whole of some plunder which they 
have found, they carry away what they can, and 
then bring back an army to carry off the rest. 
They are very fond of a substance called honey- 
dew. Ants are often seen running up and 
down the trunks of trees, even when there is 
no fruit on the tree to tempt them. As the 
trees which they visit are often sickly, they are 
supposed to do some injury. They are not at 
all to blame, but are only going to their farms 
to look after their cattle. The leaves and ten- 
der twigs of these trees will be found to be 
covered with small, pale-green insects, called 
Aphides, or Plant-lice. They are often very 
closely packed upon the leaf or stem, and they 



THEIR INDUSTRY. 1 9 

do harm by sucking up the juices of the grow- 
ing plant. The ant comes up the tree to his 
dairy farm, and strokes one of the green lice 
with his feeler; the louse gives out a single 
drop of clear liquid, which the ant drinks. 
Then he goes to the next, and so on, milking 
his cows, or gathering honey-dew. When he 
has enough, he goes back to his work, digging, 
building, or feeding the young ants. 

The working ant does a great deal of work 
in a day. M. Huber, a French naturalist, gives 
an account of a single day's work of one ant. 
The insect first dug in the earth a groove or 
road, about a quarter of an inch deep and four 
inches long. The dirt which he took out, he 
kneaded into pellets, and placed on each side 
of his road, to make a wall. When this road 
was finished, very smooth and straight, he 
found that another was wanted, and he made 
that in the same manner, and about the same 
size. A man, to have done as much in propor- 
tion to his size, must have dug two ditches, 
each four and a half feet deep, and seventy-two 



20 ABOUT ANTS. 

feet long; he must have made the clay into 
bricks, and laid them up in walls on each side 
of the ditches, two to three feet high and fifteen 
inches thick. He must have gone over it all 
and made it straight and smooth; and must 
have made it alone, in ground full of logs and 
stones. 

The Brown Ants, F. brunnea, are both miners 
and builders. They work either at night or in 
damp weather, because the sunshine dries their 
mortar too fast. They build a house of many 
stories, sometimes twenty or thirty. Each story 
is about a fifth of an inch high, supported by 
many partitions and pillars. In wet weather 
they take the family into the upper rooms ; in 
dry weather they occupy the middle or the lower 
floors. While building, they work the damp 
clay in their jaws until the pellets are compact, 
and will adhere firmly; then they press them 
tightly against the tops of the partitions which 
they have made. As fast as one row of bricks 
has dried, another row is added ; thus they will 
lay a perfectly smooth and strong ceiling two 



CARPENTERS. 2 1 

inches in diameter. When these walls are fin- 
ished, the rain and sun seem only to make 
them harder. If a stick or straw is in their 
way, they at once make a beam or a post of it. 
If a post, they cover it with mortar until it is 
thick and strong enough for their work. If a 
beam, they build their ceiling against and 
around it If a room is too large, they build 
partitions, and divide it into smaller rooms of 
suitable size. 

Other Ants are carpenters. They often re- 
move so much of a log of wood as to leave it a 
mere honey-comb, pierced through and through 
in every direction with their passages. The 
walls between are often as thin as paper, and 
yet are never broken through except where one 
passage crosses another. They can not know 
how to cut so near another passage by sight, 
for all is done in the dark ; they can not plan 
or measure, as a reasoning being would do ; 
and yet they do their work with greater deli- 
cacy and accuracy than the man who reasons 

and measures. For some unexplained cause, 

2B 



22 ABOUT ANTS. 

the wood through which they cut is all colored 
black, as if the fire had passed through it. 

When these black carpenters get into a 
dwelling, they cause a deal of trouble. They 
make themselves at home in the very wood- 
work of the house. They gnaw a way into any 
wooden box which they wish to explore, and 
will find the least crevice into the sugar-box or 
cake-jar. The prudent housewife puts her pot 
of sweetmeats in a pan of water, but if the ants 
know what the jar contains, they will find a 
way to it, even if they crawl upon the shelf 
above, and drop down upon it. The family 
may be almost exterminated, aud yet, if two or 
three be left, with all the resources of the uest 
at their command, in a little time the plagues 
are as thick as ever. Moreover, they bite. 

Some tribes of Ants are very warlike, and 
they make war to capture the workers of other 
tribes, and obtain slaves for their own commu- 
nities. It is said that the kidnappers are always 
pale or red Ants, and that the captured slaves 
are black. When the red Ants are about to 



THEIR WARFARE. 23 

make a foray, they send scouts to explore the 
ground, who afterwards return and report their 
success. They then march forth in regular 
armies. The assailed town pours out its inhab- 
itants, and the fight begins. Head to head, 
foot to foot, jaw to jaw, the sable warriors de- 
fend their homes and their children, but in 
vain. The victory is always with the invaders. 
They do not drive out their conquered foes, 
but they break into their homes and carry 
away the cocoons of the workers. The red 
ants return in perfect order to their own city, 
bearing with them their living burdens. They 
treat the plundered young with the same care 
they give their own, and the ants produced 
from the stolen cocoons seem to work with 
abundant energy and good will. The inhabit- 
ants of the besieged city, knowing what result 
will follow the fight, often carry away many of 
their young. They take them to the tops of 
the grass stems, and hide them amid the foliage 
of other plants. When the raid is over, they 
bring them back to the nest again. Several 



24 ABOUT ANTS. 

kinds of ants practice this kind of warfare, and 
the results are too well attested by careful 
observers to admit of doubt. 

Although there are many kinds, and count- 
less numbers of Ants in the cooler countries of 
the temperate zone, they are far surpassed in 
number, in size, and in venomous power, by 
those found in the hot lands of the torrid zone. 
Here all kinds of reptile and of insect life seem 
to be extravagantly developed, and the ants are 
often so numerous and so powerful as to drive 
away every other living thing. 

The Saiiba or Coushie Ant, (Ecodoma cepha- 
lotes, lives in South America. It is often called 
the Parasol Ant. Large columns may be seen 
marching along, each carrying in its jaws, and 
over its head, a round piece of leaf, about the 
size of a dime. Many suppose that this is actu- 
ally carried to keep off the heat of the sun; 
but the fact is that they use the leaves to 
thatch the roofs of their houses, and to keep 
the loose earth from falling in. They choose 
the leaves of cultivated trees, as the orange and 



THE SAUBA ANTS. 25 

the coffee. When they attack a tree, they strip 
it of foliage so entirely, that it often dies. Then 
they march away with their plunder, and fling 
it on the ground, at the nest. Another party 
of workers take up the pieces, and put them 
upon the roof, covering them with dirt. These 
domed houses are wonderfully large, measuring 
sometimes two feet in height, and forty feet in 
diameter. Their underground cities are on 
even a larger scale. The smoke of burning 
sulphur blown into one opening has been found 
to corne out at another, more than two hundred 
feet away. 

There are three kinds of these ants: the 
winged, the large headed — sometimes called 
soldiers, and the workers. The large headed 
are also of two sorts : one kind has a smooth 
helmet, covered with horny substance, which 
one can almost see through, and the other 
wears a dark helmet, covered with hairs. The 
business of these large-heads is not very well 
understood. The smooth helmets seem to do 
nothing but walk about. They do not fight; 



26 



ABOUT ANTS. 



they do not work; they do not appear to over- 
look those which do work. The hairy-helmets 
are not known to do any more. If the top of 
one of the mounds be taken off, a circular well 
will be found in the centre, into which a stick 
three or four feet long may be thrust, without 
touching bottom. Presently some of these 
hairy-headed fellows, each wearing one eye 
in the middle of its forehead, like a fabled 
Cyclops, will come slowly up the smooth sides 
of the well, to see what is wanted. But they 
are not very pugnacious, and may easily be 
caught by the fingers. 

The winged ants are the perfect males and 
females. They come out a little after midsum- 
mer, that is in February. The females have 
bodies about as large as hornets, and spread 
their wings nearly two inches. The males are 
much smaller. Although hosts pour out of the 
nests, few remain after a day, for the birds and 
insect eating animals have devoured most of 
them. Those which escape found new colo- 
nies in spite of all the dangers which threaten 



FORAGING ANTS. 27 

to destroy them; even the art of man can not 
conquer them. 

Among the South American Ants are several 
species which are classed together, and called- 
Foraging Ants. They belong to the genus 
.Eciton. They have been confounded with the 
Saiiba Ants, just described, but their habits are 
quite different. The real Foraging Ant, E. dre- 
panephora, is very annoying, and very useful. 
These insects go out from their cities in im- 
mense armies, not very broad, but often a hun- 
dred yards long. Officers march beside the 
column, very busy keeping their own portion 
of th^ Hne in order. There is an officer to 
about twenty privates ; their white heads nod- 
ding up and down make them quite conspicu- 
ous. The pittas, or ant thrushes, always accom- 
pany these armies, picking up the Ants for their 
own food; but still the band goes marching on. 
The people know that the Ants are on the war 
path, and make every preparation for their 
reception. 

In those countries, insects of every kind get 



28 



ABOUT ANTS. 



into the houses, and multiply to an extent 
which almost drives the inhabitants from their 
homes. By day they are a trouble, and by 
night a pest. They bite, and suck, and scratch, 
and sting. They crawl over the food; they 
hide in the bed; they fly into the lamp, and 
then whirl on the table; they creep into the 
ink; they emit horrible smells. There are 
centipedes which sting, and scorpions which 
sting. There are cockroaches of powerful size 
and smell, and of insatiable appetite. As for 
snakes and lizards, and other creeping things, 
they are too common to be noticed. It is of 
no use to fight. Tour enemies are legions of 
numbers innumerable. But when the Forag- 
ing Ants come, the case is altered, for nothing 
can stand their attack. When the pittas come 
about, the people open every box and drawer in 
the house, so as to allow the ants to explore 
every crevice, and then they vacate the prem- 

" Presently a few scouts, which form the van- 
guard of the grand army, approach, and seem 



RAIDS UPON VERMIN. 29 

to inspect the house, to see if it is worthy of a 
visit. The long column then pours in and dis- 
perses over the dwelling. They enter every 
crevice, and speedily haul out any unfortunate 
creature which is hidden therein. Great cock- 
roaches are dragged unwillingly away, being 
pulled in front by four or five ants, and pushed 
from behind by as many more. The rats and 
mice speedily succumb to the onslaught of their 
myriad foes, the snakes and the lizards fare no 
better, and even the formidable weapons of the 
centipedes and scorpions are overcome. 

" In a wonderfully short time the Foraging 
Ants have done their work, the turmoil gradu- 
ally ceases, the scattered parties again form 
into line, and the army moves out of the house, 
carrying its spoils in triumph. When the in- 
habitants return, they find every intruder gone, 
and to their great comfort mny move about 
without treading on some unfortunate creature, 
or put on their shoes without knocking them 
on the floor to shake out a scorpion or a centi- 
pede." 



3° ABOUT ANTS. 

But those who are accustomed to the country 
are careful to keep out of the way. If a man 
should happen to cross the column, the ants at 
once dash at him, climb up his legs, and bite 
with their powerful and poisonous jaws. His 
only safety is in running away until the main 
army is too far off to renew the attack, and 
then destroying those which he has brought with 
him. This is not easy, for the Ants have long, 
hooked jaws, and bite so fiercely that they may* 
be pulled away piecemeal, leaving the jaws in 
the wound to be picked out separately. 

Another species, E. prcedator, marches in 
broad, solid mass. It is a little creature, like 
our common red ant, but much brighter col- 
ored, making the trunk of a tree upon which 
many climb look as if smeared with a blood-red 
liquid. 

This little red ant is exceedingly venomous : 
its bite brings a quenchless, burning sensa- 
tion, whence the Brazilians call it "fire ant." 
The South American Indians require their 
young men to undergo the ordeal of the Tocan- 



A FIERY ORDEAL. 3 1 

deiros, or fii*e-ants, before they can be known 
as warriors, or recognized as braves. A pair 
of mittens are made of the bark of the palm 
tree, long enough to cover the arms above the 
elbows, and are filled with the Tocandeiros. 
The candidate for warlike honor must put his 
hands into these bags of living fire, and wear 
them while he makes the round of the village, 
and dances a jig at every pause. During this 
march he must wear a smiling face, and chant 
a kind of song so loud as to be heard above all 
the noise his companions may make upon rude 
horns and drums. He must not, by word, 
action, or look, show any sign of the torture 
which he endures; if he should, he will be the 
ridicule of his tribe, and even the maidens will 
refuse to know him. When the round of the 
village is complete, he must pause before the 
chief with swifter dance, and louder chant, 
until he falls from exhaustion, and the burning 
gauntlets are removed. Then he has won hia 
right to carry a spear with his tribe. 

A species, E. legionis, attacks the nests of 



3 2 ABOUT ANTS. 

some of the large burrowing ants. They 
arrange themselves for this purpose into two 
bands; one set dig into the ground and take 
out pellets of earth, while the others receive 
the pellets and carry them away. They will 
thus sink a hole ten or twelve inches, and 
always succeed in opening the nest. The ma- 
terials they pull to pieces and carry home, as 
well as the inmates. The community is in 
wonderful discipline. Each ant knows his 
place, and attends to his business. 

The species E. erratica, is blind. The eyes 
of the other varieties are very small, but in the 
Blind Ant they are absolutely wanting, not 
showing even a trace. They have, however, 
some means of knowing light from darkness, 
for they are very uneasy when brought into the 
light. • 

They are wonderful builders, constructing 
long galleries through which they travel. If a 
gallery be broken into, the soldiers are seen 
slowly coming out, and opening their large 
jaws as if they would bite something. If not 



THE DRIVER ANTS. 33 

disturbed, they retire into the gallery, and soon 
the workers come and repair the breach. 
These galleries are built upon the surface of 
the earth, and do not penetrate the soil. 

Some Ants make their nests in trees, hang- 
ing them from the boughs, like the wasps. 
One of these carries its abdomen in the air, 
hanging over its back, and has acquired the 
uncouth name Crcrnatogaster, or "hanging-belly." 
Another is called by travelers the Green Ant, 
CEcophylla virescens. The name signifies a 
house and a leaf, and is given because it makes 
its hanging nest of dried leaves. "When dis- 
turbed, the Ants come pattering down upon 
the man below like rain-drops, seeking for 
spots which they can wound, and having a 
special faculty for finding their way down the 
neck. 

A tribe of Ants somewhat similar to the 
Ecitons of South America, is found in Africa, 
and is called Bashi Kouay, or Driver Ant, 
Anomma arcens. It is the dread of all animals, 
from the leopard to the smallest insect. It 



34 ABOUT AXTS. 

marches through the forest in lines about r 
inches broad, and of incredible length. One 
Wwitu erts that he has seen a column of 

these insects continue passing a single point, 
at good speed, for twelve hours. Officers 
march along the line and maintain order. If 
the advance guard come to an open place, not 
shaded by trees, they build a covered way. or 
tunnel, of dirt mo 1 with their saliva. If 

there are sticks and leaves on the ground, they 
fill up only the spaces which are exposed, for 
the direct rays of the sun kill them very 
quickly. If a stream crosses their path, they 
make a bridge of themselves, over which the 
: a single Ant swings himself 
from the branch of a tree which overhangs the 
water. Then another crawls over him, and 
hangs from his feet. Others follow until a 
living chain is formed which reaches to the 
water, and rests upon it. Then the wind 
or the current wafts the free end of the chain 
about until it touches the opposite shore, and 
: crossing is complete. If one chain bridge 



BRIDGES OF ANTS. 35 

is insufficient, others are made alongside. It 
is asserted that the bridge is even made tubu- 
lar, and that the army marches through it. 

When the Ants get hungry, the long line 
stops marching by the flank, as soldiers would 
say, that is, following each other in line, and 
moves like an army in line of battle, devouring 
every thing in its way. The black men run 
for their lives. In a very short time a mouse, 
a dog, a leopard, or even a deer, is overrun, 
killed, eaten, and only the bones are left. 
When they enter a house, they clear it of every 
living thing. If a fowl is the victim, they dig 
out the feathers by the roots, and then pull the 
flesh to pieces, fastening their strong pincers 
into it, and never failing to bring away the 
piece. 

A white hunter killed an antelope, and 
brought it to a native village. In the night 
he felt himself terribly bitten, and roused his 
attendants. The whole village was attacked by 
a column of the Bashi Kouay, which was 
attracted by the smell of the meat. The 



3^ ABOUT ANTS. 

natives protected themselves by making circles 
of fire and standing inside. Before morning 
the insects had eaten every thing they could 
get, and had traveled on. 

During the abundant tropical rains the Drivers 
run together and form themselves into balls, vary- 
ing in size, but usually about as large as those 
used in the game of ball. These balls of ants 
float upon the water until the land appears 
again, and the insects can go about their busi- 
ness. The natives try to destroy them by mak- 
ing fires over and about their nests. This does 
not accomplish much, for the cunning ants 
escape before the heat becomes too great, and 
will be found hanging in festoons upon the 
neighboring trees, and crossing from one to 
another by their chain bridges. 

These ants are black, with a tinge of red. 
They have enormous heads, equaling about 
one third of their entire length. The jaws are 
sharply curved, and cross each other when 
closed, so that if the ant has fixed itself, ite 
hold can not be loosened unless the jaws are 



AGRICULTURAL ANTS. 37 

opened. It has no appearance of external 
eyes. 

Dr. Lincecum has observed an Ant in Texas, 
which has been called the Agricultural Ant, 
Atta malefaciens. When this species has fixed 
its home in good dry ground, it bores a cen- 
tral hole, about which it raises the surface per- 
haps six inches, making a low mound, which 
gently slopes to the outer edge. If the spot be 
wet, the mound is raised higher, and is even 
fifteen or twenty inches high. The space about 
the mound is carefully cleaned and smoothed 
like a pavement. Nothing is allowed to grow 
in this circle, two or three feet from the centre, 
except a single species of grass. This grass 
the ants tend with the greatest care, cutting 
away the weeds within and about it. It thrives 
under their culture, and bears a crop of seed 
which resembles, under the «microscope, minia- 
ture rice. When ripe, it is carefully harvested, 
and carried into the cells, where it is cleaned 
of the chaff, and packed away. If the grain 

gets moist in damp weather, it is taken out and 

2C 



3% ABOUT ANTS. 

dried on the first fair day, and the sound ker- 
nels are carried back again ; those which have 
sprouted are thrown away. Since men have 
made farms in that country, and the cattle have 
eaten down the ant-rice, thus spoiling their 
crop, the ants have either abandoned the pas- 
tures, or those communities have perished. 
They may be found in places where the cattle 
can not get at their crop of grain. 

Dr. Lincecum is confident, after twelve years 
observation, that these ants plant the grain, 
take care of it, harvest it, and keep seed for 
another sowing. Each year the crop of ant- 
rice is found growing about their cities, and 
not a blade of any other green thing can be 
found within twelve inches of this grain. 




CARPENTER AND MASON BEES, AND THEIR CELLS. 

B. Mason Bee ; D. Cells of the Mason Bee ; C. Carpenter Bee ; A. F. Cells of Car- 
penter Bee ; E. Comb of Humble Bees. 



About Bees. 



Articulata. — Insecta. 

Order — Hymerwptera — Membrane- winged. 

Family — ApidcB — Bee family. 




fN the summer days, among the 
white clover heads, we find a 
bright, busy, buzzing Bee. He 
runs quickly over the round white 
bouquet, and thrusts his long 
tongue deep into every floweret. 
He tastes of each, and then, with 
cheery hum, visits another and 
another flower. In a little time he has gath- 
ered his sweet freight. He rises in the air, 
circles about for an instant, and then dashes 
away in the straightest of bee-lines to his home. 



4 2 ABOUT BEES. 

Another is searching the larkspur. A third is 
working at the snapdragon, the " frogs-mouth " 
of the children. Now he kicks against the 
lower lip of the gay corolla. It opens, and in 
he goes, while the door shuts after him. Pres- 
ently it opens again, the Bee creeps out, goes to 
another, and vanishes in that. A fourth is 
making the round of the cucumber vines. 
Down he goes into the golden cup, round the 
sculptured pillar at the bottom, and out again, 
dusty with yellow pollen. He descends into a 
second cup, and as he rubs his way round that 
column, carved with a different device, he leaves 
a little of the golden dusj to give vitality to the 
tiny cucumber at the base of the flower. If 
there were no Bees, the cucumbers and squashes 
would not grow. 

Hear the gentle hum among the pale, grace- 
ful clusters of locust blossoms, which burden 
the air with their oppressive sweetness. The 
buckwheat field resounds with the busy mur- 
mur. They visit the honeysuckles and the 
morning-glories, the clematis and the violets, 






GATHERING POLLEN. 43 

the lilies, the pea-blossoms, the scarlet-runners, 
and all the multitude of flowers that provide 
honey in their fragrant cups. 

Before that fellow which explored the cucum- 
ber blossoms went home, he rested on a twig 
and scraped himself all over with his feet. He 
cleaned off every particle of the yellow pollen 
which had gathered upon his velvet coat, and 
put his jacket in the nicest order. Little 
dandy, is he ? Not at all. He is only neat ; 
and besides, the dust was partly what he came 
for. He kneaded it together, rolled it up care- 
fully in a ball, and tucked it away in his trou- 
sers pocket. Not just that, either, but in a hol- 
low inside his thigh, made on purpose for that 
kind of load, and lined with bristly hairs to 
keep the little yellow packet from falling out. 
One may often be seen with his two thighs 
loaded down, while he is still gathering his 
supply of honey. 

Behind the house, under a little shed in the 
thicket of locusts and cinnamon roses, is the 
Bee's home. When his ancestors took care of 



44 ABOUT BEES. 

themselves, they made their comb and stored 
their honey in the hollow of some old tree ; 
they ate it themselves, unless the bears climbed 
the tree and took a share. Now the careful 
farmer provides a snug, clean box for each 
swarm, and pays himself from their stores. 

You may stand near and watch them, if you 
will be quiet, and have not made yourself offen- 
sive to the Bees with some strong perfume. 
Their sense of smell is very acute, and many 
perfumes make them very cross. If you find 
that one begins to circle round your head with 
a sharp, rasping buzz, quite unlike the genial 
hum of those which are coming and going, and 
particularly if you find that two or three join 
in the song, and fly in the same curve, you had 
better go without ceremony. In an instant 
more you may expect them to dash in your 
face and sting you, and that a score of angry 
bees will follow their example. But you may 
usually approach without fear, and will find a 
busy community — "busy as bees." 

A hive of Bees contains a queen, a few hun- 



MAKING WAX. 45 

dred drones, and may have 15,000 or 20,000 
workers. The workers are those we have seen 
gathering honey and pollen. They are about 
half an inch long, nearly black, and are armed 
with a straight sting. The drones are about 
five-eighths of an inch long, and are thicker 
and clumsier than the workers. They have no 
sting. The queen is more than three-fourths 
of an inch long, slender and graceful; she has 
a curved sting. 

When a swarm of Bees are newly settled in 
a hive, their first business is to commence 
building. A part clean out the hive, while 
most go to the fields for honey and pollen. 
This latter they work into a substance called 
propolis, with which they glue the wax to the 
roof of the hive, and stop up all crevices which 
might admit cold, or insects. The wax is pro- 
duced by the Bees themselves. Those which 
return from the fields hang themselves from 
the top of the hive in bunches, festoons, ropes, 
and other fantastic forms, and remain quiet for 
about twenty-four hours. During this time the 



4-6 ABOUT BEES. 

wax exudes between the rings of the bodies of 
the Bees, eight little scales coming out on 
each side. One leaves the festoon, goes to the 
top of the hive, and drives away the others 
from the spot where it would begin. It then 
takes from itself one of the scales of wax, chews 
it to make it pliable, and sticks it against 
the roof of the hive. When it has thus used 
all its wax, another takes the place, and lays 
more wax. While one works in one direction, 
another works in the opposite direction. Soon 
a thin partition begins to hang down, which 
will separate the ends of the two rows of cells 
that meet in the middle of the comb. When 
the two Bees working opposite to each other 
leave room between them, a third begins to cut 
out a hollow in one side of the partition, and 
presently two others begin to hollow on the 
opposite side. As fast as the wax layers extend 
the partition and make room, the sculpturers 
dig out the hollows on the sides. If the reader 
will press a slip of paper between the tips of 
two finders of one hand and three finders of 



LAYING OUT CELLS. 47 

the other, the paper will take the shape which 
the wax partition has when the sculpturers have 
followed the wax layers. The hollows made 
by the ends of the fingers will represent the 
bottoms of the cells on either side of the parti- 
tion. Now lay a number of marbles of the 
same size upon a table. They will lie most 
closely if one be put down first, and six more 
placed around it; when these are placed, the 
others will readily find their places. If the 
marbles were pressed into the surface of a sheet 
of wax, they would show the arrangement of 
several cells against one side of the central par- 
tition ; the spaces between the marbles would 
show where the partitions between cells are 
made. But these spaces are triangular, and if 
rilled up with wax, would waste wax and space, 
both which are very precious to the builders. 
So they cut out all that can be spared from the 
little three cornered places, and make the three 
partitions meet between three cells which join 
each other. Thus the six sided, or hexagonal 
shape of the cells is arranged. 



4§ ABOUT BEES. 

Now there is room for more Bees to work. 
Some lengthen and widen the middle partition; 
some hollow out the cell bottoms; some lay 
wax for the sides of the cells, building directly 
out from the central wall; some smooth the 
interior of the cells. The same Bees do not lay 
the wax and smooth it too. When the work 
on one comb is fairly begun, the proper dis- 
tance is measured, and another is laid out on 
either side of the first; then two more still far- 
ther away, and so on until the ceiling is cov- 
ered. In a little time all the workers find 
plenty to do, and they work with such diligence 
that a moderate swarm will build four thousand 
cells in a day. 

When the cells are made, and even before 
they are finished, the queen comes to lay the 
eggs. She first puts her head in the cell, as if 
to see that it is properly made, then she turns 
about and places an egg at the farther end. 
She supplies thirty or forty cells on one side of 
the comb, and then passes to the opposite side, 
where she lays as many more. In this way the 



FEEDING THEIR YOUNG. 49 

grubs in the same body of comb are hatched at 
the same time, and the bees come out together. 
While the queen is laying, the workers treat 
her with the greatest attention. They caress 
her; they feed her from their own mouths; if 
danger threatens, they cover her with their 
bodies, piling up two or three inches thick. If 
they are pushed aside, and the queen is taken 
out, they seem greatly alarmed for her safety, 
but do not sting. Their whole anxiety is for 
the welfare of their beloved mistress. 

The egg hangs upon the upper angle of the 
cell for three days. Then it bursts, and a lively 
little worm falls from it. At once the workers 
begin to look after the baby-bee. They feed it 
with liquid food, prepared in their own stomachs 
from farina, or pollen, with honey, and perhaps 
water. At first the liquid is quite insipid, but 
afterwards contains more honey. The grub 
eats voraciously, and the Bees bring all it can 
eat. They watch the brood with tender care. 
If a oomb containing it be placed in an empty 
hive, they will continue to take care of it with- 



5° ABOUT BEES. 

out regard to other duties. By thus removing 
a body of comb containing one or two queen 
cells, a portion of a swarm may be transferred 
to a new hive, without the usual process of 
swarming. 

About five days after the egg is hatched the 
grub stops eating. It has nearly filled the cell, 
and has curled itself into a ring. Then the 
Bees seal it up in its cell with a cover of wax, 
and leave it, while it spins a silken shroud like 
a silkworm. This takes a day and a half; in 
three days more it has changed into a pupa, or 
chrysalis. First it straightens itself. Then the 
parts of the perfect Bee begin to form under 
the clear, white skin. The head, the eyes, the 
antennse, the wings, the feet, the rings of back 
and abdomen, may all be seen under the silken 
garment which seems to be laid in shining folds 
about its head, and gathered up about its feet. 
It looks like ^he living mummy of a Bee. The 
skin changes from white and clear, to black 
and opaque; the parts become more distinct. 
On the twenty-first day from the laying of the 



CARE OF YOUNG QUEENS. S 1 

egg, the perfect insect throws off the black 
mummy wrapper, eats through the silken 
shroud and the wax coffin-lid, and comes forth. 
In half an hour she is free from the cell ; she 
dries her wings, and on the same day goes out 
into the world to sip honey and gather farina 
with her elder sisters. As soon as the young 
Bee has left the cell, the workers clean it out 
and put it in order for another egg y or for the 
storage of farina or honey. A large portion of 
the cells are used for this purpose, the food 
being intended for a supply at the season when 
flowers are not in bloom. 

The care taken of the egg and grub of the 
worker, though very great, can not compare 
with that given to the young which are to 
become queens. The workers act as if the fate 
of their nation depended upon the young crea- 
ture. They feed it with a richer, more pun- 
gent, and more acid jelly, and supply more of 
this royal food than can be eaten. After the 
cell is closed up, the grub spins a cocoon, but 
does not complete it. This omisaion is often 



5 2 ABOUT BEES. 

fatal to itself, but necessary to the quiet of the 
hive, for the queen first hatched often stings to 
death her rivals which have not yet appeared. 
If the cocoon were complete, she might not be 
able to pierce it, or her sting might be entangled 
in the silk, which would destroy her own life. 
The queen ceases to be a chrysalis on the six- 
teenth day, but she is not allowed to leave the 
cell until a suitable time comes. If she were to 
come forth while the weather was such that a 
swarm could not fly, there would be two queens 
in the same hive, and that could not be per- 
mitted. A contest would ensue, and the older 
and stronger would kill the younger. So the 
workers keep the young queen prisoner, but 
give her plenty to eat. 

Mean while the old queen becomes agitated 
and impatient. She has stopped laying eggs, 
and runs distractedly here and there over the 
comb. The workers share in her excitement, 
and gather about her. They fly wildly about 
the hive, but do not go away for food. Sud- 
denly the confused noise within ceases. In a 



SWARMING. 53 

second some workers come forth, and then the 
whole swarm, led by the mother queen, streams 
out and fills the air with a dark cloud. They 
hover for an instant about their old home, and 
then settle in a compact mass, like a ball, or 
bunch of grapes, upon a bush, or branch of a 
tree. If undisturbed they will soon fly again, 
and on swift wings vanish to some distant place, 
and probably be lost. While the swarm is 
quiet, they may be gathered in a bag or 
shaken into a hive. If the box be sweet and 
clean, and particularly if a little honey or wax 
has been rubbed in it, the Bees will almost 
always adopt it as their new home. 

"When swarming they are said to be perfectly 
harmless. Jardine says: " They are so intent 
on the acquisition of a new abode, and so 
anxious about the safety of their mother and 
queen, that what on ordinary occasions would 
draw forth many a vengeful weapon, now passes 
utterly unheeded by them; and the cultivator 
may lift them in handfuls, like so much grain, 
without in the least suffering for his boldness." 



54 ABOUT BEES. 

The young queens are left in the hive. After 
the departure of the old queen, the young one 
is allowed to come out of her cell. She at once 
goes to the other royal cells, and tries to kill 
the queens enclosed in them. Sometimes she 
succeeds, but the workers often crowd round 
her and hold her back. Excited by this treat- 
ment she sometimes leaves the hive, taking a 
quantity of workers with her, and so forms a 
second swarm This may be repeated from a 
large hive until three or four swarms have left. 
It would seem that the hive must become quite 
deserted from such drafts upon it, but this is 
not the case. The many Bees which are in the 
field when the swarm leaves return to their old 
home, and there is a multitude of young Bees 
in the comb, which shortly come forth and sup- 
ply the place of those which left. 

It sometimes happens that a queen dies, and 
that too at a time when there are no queen 
grubs in the cells. Perhaps the queen has 
been taken away in order to see what the Bees 
would do. For about twelve hours every thing 



HOW A QUEEN IS MADE. 55 

goes on as usual ; the workers do not seem to 
know their loss. Then the community is in 
great distress. All labor is suspended. They 
rush in crowds to the door as if to leave the 
hive. They gather in groups as if consulting 
together. Then they seek the comb where 
worker grubs are hatched, and open three cells 
into one, making a royal cell. The one grub 
which is left in the cell is fed with royal jelly, 
and treated in every way like a queen grub. 
The same thing is done in three or four places, 
to make the result secure. The chauge of 
food, and the increased size of the cell, work a 
change in the larva, or produce a more com- 
plete development, and in due time it comes 
forth a perfect queen. It is known to be a 
fact that the Bees can produce a new queen for 
themselves if they have a comb containing 
grubs not more than three days old. 

When a second queen is placed in a hive 
which has already a recognized queen, the Bees 
gather round the new comer, and though they 
do no violence, in a few hours she is either 

2D 



5 6 ABOUT BEES. 

starved or suffocated. If the two queens meet, 
a battle follows, and one is slain. Sometimes 
both perish. If the Bees have lost their queen, 
and have discovered their loss, a new queen 
will be at once recognized ; before the proper 
time has passed, they treat the new queen as if 
the old one w r ere yet with them. 

There is another Bee in the hive, of which 
little has been said. This is the drone, or male 
Bee. He is known by his larger size, his heavy 
flight, and his loud humming or droning sound. 
He takes no part in the work of the hive, nor 
does he go to the field to gather honey. His 
life is short. About the first of August, when 
the supply of honey begins to fail, the Bees 
seem to discover that the drones are of no 
use in their community, and that they can 
not afford to support them in idleness. The 
drones appear to know their danger, and clus- 
ter together in a corner. By and by the storm 
bursts. They are driven to the bottom of the 
hive, and out of doors. They have their wings 
bitten off. They drag two or three of their 



KEEPING THE HIVE COOL. 57 

enemies with them, but their strength will not 
save them. They are unarmed, and the work- 
ers wear sharp, poisoned stings. Those which 
escape the massacre fall a prey to birds or 
toads, or perish with cold and hunger. So 
bitter is the fury of the workers, that they tear 
open the cells which would produce drones, 
kill the young, and drag the lifeless bodies out 
of the hive. 

In all the work of the Bees, they take much 
pains to keep the hive uniformly warm. In 
cold weather the heat comes from the clusters 
of their bodies, and is considerably more than 
that of a well Warmed house. In summer the 
hive is cooled by ventilation. A certain num- 
ber of workers may always be found in hot 
weather, vibrating their wings on the alighting 
board before the door of the hive. Inside, a 
still larger number is employed in the same 
way. They stand on the floor of the hive in 
lines, which separate to allow the workers to 
pass, and extend to the spaces between the 
combs. The beating of their wings forces a 



58 ABOUT BEES. 

constant current of fresh air into the hive. 
This is one cause of the hum which constantly 
resounds from a hive where the bees are at 
work. 

The honey may be taken from the hive, 
after the Bees have been removed by 
driving, or by suffocation, or it may be pro- 
cured in extra boxes. Formerly, a dense 
smoke was made, the hive placed over it, and 
the Bees destroyed. Or the hive may be 
turned up, and an empty one placed over it; 
a few smart taps on the lower hive will drive 
the Bees into the upper one. But the best 
plan is to have the hives made in two sto- 
ries, and to put suitable boxes into the upper 
story, communicating with the lower by holes 
through the ceiling. The Bees fill the boxes 
with comb and honey, and then they may be 
removed and others put in the place. 

Bees are kept in most countries, but the 
varieties differ considerably. Fifteen or twenty 
kinds of hive Bees are named. 



7HET CAME FROM EUROPE. 59 

In Africa, in Australia, and in America, 
they are often found wild. Bee hunters some- 
times derive considerable profit from the 
honey which they find in the hollow trunks 
of decayed trees. The hunter catches a Bee 
which is about ready to go home, marks 
it with a little red paint, or sticks a bit of 
white down to it, and then watches its flight. 
He goes a little distance, and takes another, 
which he treats in the same way. By observ- 
ing several, he traces their lines to the tree, 
cuts it down, and obtains the honey. The wild 
Bees of America were not originally natives. 
They were brought from Europe by the Eng- 
lish, and a swarm was carried over the Alle- 
ghany mountains in 1670 by a hurricane. The 
Indians call them " English Plies," and they 
say that the Indian and the buffalo flee before 
the Bees. Longfellow's Indian says of the 
Bees and the white clover : 



6o ABOUT BEES. 

" Wheresoe'er they move, before them 
Swarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo, 
Swarms the Bee, the honey-maker; 
Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them 
Springs a flower unknown among us, 
Springs the White Man's Foot in blossom." 

" Wise in their government, diligent and 
active in their employments, devoted to their 
young and to their queen, the Bees read a lec- 
ture to mankind that exemplifies their oriental 
name, Deburah, she that speaketh." 

The great family of Bees may be divided 
into two classes : those which live in commu- 
nities, and are called Social Bees, and those 
which living and working alone, are called Sol- 
itary Bees. The varieties of both classes are 
very numerous. More than two hundred and 
fifty species are known in Great Britain alone. 
The most noted of the social Bees are the com- 
mon Hive or Honey Bees, which have already 
been described. Another kind, familiar to all 
my readers, is the Humble Bee. In New Eng- 
land these Bees are known to boys as Bumble 



THE HUMBLE BEE. 6 1 

Bees, or Bum-bees. In different parts of Old 
England they are called Foggies, Dumbledores, 
or Hummel-bees. Let us observe the annual 
circuit of a family of these Bees. 

In autumn the workers, the males, and all the 
old females, die. The young females find some 
sheltered place, in moss, dead leaves, or de- 
cayed wood of an old tree, where they may 
pass the winter. As the cold begins they be- 
come torpid, and so they remain until the 
bright sun and balmy air of spring wake them 
from their long sleep, and call them again 
among the flowers. At once they separate, 
and each, widow though she be, makes a home 
and founds a colony of her own. She finds a 
spot which suits her, and begins to dig a path 
in the ground. She picks out the grains of 
dirt with her strong jaws, passes them from 
one pair of legs to the next, under herself, and 
finally kicks them as far behind her as she can. 
When her passage is deep enough, a few inches 
or even some feet long, she ends it in a rounded 
cavern, which she lines with soft leaves. Some- 



6 2 



ABOUT BEES. 



times she borrows the burrow of the field 
mouse, and quite often the field mouse comes 
and reclaims his own. Indeed, he is not care- 
ful to prove ownership, particularly if the 
chamber is well filled with honey and young 
brood. 

"When the room is done, she builds brood- 
cells, taking the wax from herself, like the hive 
Bees. Her comb is not built in the mar- 
velously regular style of the hive Bees. 
She makes an egg-shaped cell of dirty 
w r ax, shaped like an earthen jar. This she 
places on its end, mouth upwards. Then she 
sets another beside it, and so gathers an irreg- 
ular mass of cells, some standing on the 
ground, some fastened to the walls of otheis. 
Some are filled with honey ; others receive 
eggs. If more than one tier of cells is fouL.d,. 
the second and third will be placed above the 
first, and will be supported by waxen pillars. 
Besides these cells, others are built by them- 
selves about the room. These are filled v»ilh 
honey. The honey jars are never sealed up* 



THE COLONY INCREASES. 63 

for they are not filled for winter supply, but 
for daily use. 

In about fifteen days from the laying of eggs, 
the labors of. the mother Bee, who has hitherto 
toiled alone, are rewarded by the appearance 
of workers. The young Bees make more 
comb, and fill the cells with honey and farina. 
They line the roof and walls of the nest with 
a coating of wax, to keep the earth in place, 
and to prevent the rain from soaking through. 
When the new cells are ready, the mother lays 
a new supply of eggs. She must protect the 
new laid eggs from the workers, who would 
eat them if not driven away. At times she 
gets angry at some who persist in their efforts, 
to get the eggs, and chases them out of the 
nest; but her wrath has defeated her prudence 
— the others take advantage of her absence, 
and steal her treasure. 

If she can guard the eggs for a few hours, 
the danger ceases. In four or five days they 
are hatched, and as soon as the grubs are 
grown, each spins a cocoon for himself. Sev- 



64 ABOUT BEES. 

eral eggs are placed in one cell. As the grubs 
grow, the cell becomes too small, and the pres- 
sure tears it open. The Bees patch up the 
rent. Presently it tears again, and again it is 
patched. Thus in a little time it becomes four 
or five times as large as it was at first. The 
patch work is not fitted neatly, like the wax 
work of the honey Bees, and produces the 
rough, clumsy cells found in these nests. The 
males are more useful than the drones in the Bee 
hive ; for though they do not gather food, they 
provide their share of wax. The other Bees 
do not kill them in autumn, but all perish 
together when the frosts come. 

These underground cities frequently contain 
quite a dense population. In one nest were 
counted 157 males, 56 females, and 180 work- 
ers, making a total census of 343. These num- 
bers seem small compared with the 20,000 to 
40,000 honey Bees in a hive, but if we remem- 
ber that the Humble Bees are much the largest, 
that the comb is large and very irregular, we 
find that so many require a large space ; and 



HUBERTS EXPERIMENT. 65 

we must not forget that they usually dig the 
place for themselves in the earth. 

Their honey is very sweet, but is apt to give 
headache. The wax is not clear like ordinary 
beeswax, and will not melt as well. Each spe- 
cies makes a cell peculiar to itself, either in 
position or shape. 

Huber, while studying the habits of these 
Bees, placed several under a glass, with a piece 
of brood-comb. He took away all their wax 
and honey, and gave them farina only. The 
comb did not rest fairly on the table, and when 
the bees climbed upon it, to make it warm 
enough to hatch the eggs, it rocked to and fro. 
This motion annoyed them very much, but 
they had no wax, and could not make props 
to keep the comb in place. A few of the Bees 
then rested the hooks of their hind feet upon 
the comb, and braced the middle and fore feet 
upon the table. In this way they propped the 
mass on every side, and kept it steady. They 
remained in this position until relieved by 
others, taking turns together for two or three 



66 ABOUT BEES. 

days. Then Huber gave them some wax, 
which they at once wrought into pillars, 
beneath the comb. But in a few days the 
wax became dry and gave way, and the Bees 
had to support the comb as before. 

One variety of Humble Bee does not dig a 
chamber in the ground, but fills up a crevice in 
a heap of stgnes, and for this has been called 
the Lapidary Bee, Bombus lapidarius. 

Another is the Carder Bee, B. muscorum. 
This Bee makes a nest in some hollow upon 
the surface of the ground. It consists of a 
roof of moss, lined and bound together with 
moss. It has an entrance at the bottom, which 
is also covered with an arch, and the whole 
affair is shaped not unlike the huts which the 
Esquimaux build of snow. The manner in 
which the Carder Bees prepare the moss for 
their nest is quite curious. When several have 
found a supply which suits them, they form a 
line from the nest to the moss. The foremost 
Bee takes a bunch of moss and combs it with 
her jaws and fore feet until the fibres all lie 



CUCKOO BEES. 67 

straight in a bundle beneath her. She then 
pushes it behind her, and at once proceeds to 
make another bundle. A second Bee takes 
the first bundle, combs it again, and kicks it 
back to a third, and so it is passed on from one 
to another, along the whole line to the last Bee, 
which puts it in its place on the roof of the 
house. This domed roof is made from four to 
six inches high. 

Certain kinds of Bees have been called False 
Humble Bees, or Cuckoo Bees, Apathus. 
They are like the true Humble Bees in size 
and shape, but they lack the brush-lined cavi- 
ties in the thighs for carrying pollen. These 
Bees do not build any house, do not make cells, 
or store honey, or care for their young. They 
are rovers, who take care of number one, and 
lay their eggs in the nests of other Bees. The 
larvae which hatch from these eggs are stronger 
than the rightful occupants of the cells, and 
eat up all the food. So the hard working 
Humble Bee has built her cell for an intruder, 
and continues to care for it as if it were the 



68 



ABOUT BEES. 



true heir, which it has starved out. Such 
things do not happen among mankind alone. 

Among the solitary Bees several trades are 
represented. Their labors all tend to the same 
result — shelter and food for their young, while 
some work in wood like carpenters ; others, 
like masons, build houses of mortar; others 
excavate the ground as miners ; others find 
cavities, which they line with leaves, like up- 
holsterers. 

The Carpenter Bee begins her work in early 
spring. She chooses a bit of wood which 
suits her, usually the dead branch of a tree, 
or a weather beaten board, and in this she 
bores a hole about an inch and a half long 
and large enough to turn round in, which 
usually opens upon the under side of the 
branch or board, so that the rain may not come 
in. After boring directly in as far as she 
chooses, she turns and works several inches 
along the grain of the wood. All her chips 
she takes out and stores carefully in some place 



THE CARPENTER BEE. 69 

where they will not be blown away by the 
wind. 

When she has bored as deep as she chooses, 
she begins to fill up the hole again. She 
puts a little heap of pollen in the bottom, 
and lays an egg. Then she goes to her store 
of chips and gets material for a floor above 
the egg. She fastens the chips in a ring 
about the wall, with glue from her mouth. 
Within this ring she makes a second, then a 
third, until the partition is complete. On this 
floor she places another pile of pollen, and an 
egg ; and thus she continues until the hole is 
full. When the egg hatches, the grub finds a 
supply of food; in a few days it has grown to 
its full size, and changes to a chrysalis, placing 
its head downwards. In this way the perfect 
Bee, as it gnaws its way out of the wood, is 
prevented from interfering with its younger 
brothers and sisters which are not yet quite 
ready to meet the responsibilities of society. 
English writers describe the Carpenter Bees as 
living in South America and Africa ; they 



7° ABOUT BEES. 

may be found in various parts of the United 
States. 

A variety of wood-boring Bee chooses the 
stem of the willow tree for its home. When 
its tunnel is finished, it flies away to a rose 
bush, alights upon a leaf, and cuts out a round 
piece, about as large as a half dime. Many 
persons seeing the round spaces left, charge 
the mischief to the caterpillars. The Bee 
stands upon the piece which she cuts off, 
and as it falls she .flies back to her nest with 
it in her jaws. She bends it into a cup shape, 
and stuffs it down to the very bottom of the 
hole. When the cell is suitably lined, she puts 
in some pollen and an egg, and covers it with 
another bit of leaf, which is the floor of a sec- 
ond cell. When the leaves are dry and stiff, 
they are so compact that the whole may be 
taken out together, and then separated into 
sections, like a row of thimbles thrust into each 
other. One variety of the Upholsterer Bee 
uses the scarlet leaves of the poppy for the 
silken lining of its cradle. 



THE MASON BEE. 7 1 

When a boy, the writer was somewhat fright- 
ened by a bee which came into his bedroom. 
The alarm was soon changed to curiosity, when 
the Bee was seen to examine an old inkstand, 
which had several holes in it for holding pens. 
The Bee would enter one of these holes, remain 
an instant, fly away out of the window, and 
presently come back to the same place again. 
So she buzzed about all that day and the next, 
and by the end of the second day she had filled 
up all the holes in the inkstand, and plastered 
them over neatly with mortar. She explored 
the central place, where the ink should be 
placed, but although it was dry, it did not suit 
her, and she departed. The holes were found 
to be divided into cells by partitions of mortar, 
and in each cell was a grub which would have 
become a Bee. 

Other Mason Bees build a mass of cells, 
placed side by side, in a lump, which they stick 
against the side of a wall, or in a corner. They 
love to work in the dark attic of a house, 

2E 



7 2 ABOUT BEES. 

where they are undisturbed, finding entrance 
through some crevice or knot-hole. 

They frequently fill the hollow stems of old 
raspberry vines, and the smaller kinds fill straws 
or nail holes. In fact, they occupy all sorts of 
odd and queer places, even filling up the scrolls 
of a snail shell. 

There is no better sport for a boy than the 
watching of one of the working insects in a 
quiet afternoon among the summer holidays. 
Unlike the birds, they do not mind the pres- 
ence of a visitor, and go right on with their 
work. An ant hill, a Bee hive, a solitary Bee, 
a spider spinning his web, or a hornet building 
his paper mansion on the other side of the win- 
dow pane, will pay for many an hour's silent 
observation. And the quiet boy, with watch- 
ful eyes, will find many chances of seeing them, 
which he least expected. 




< 
W 



About Spiders. 



Articulata. — Insecta. 

Order — Arac/midcB. Spider-family. 




>UKIOUS and beautiful forms 
are found in every department 
of the insect world. In all its 
infinite variety there are none 
which do not pay for careful, 
watchful study. We have de- 
scribed two great tribes of 
workers. Each is busv, one 
not more than the other. " Go to the ant, thou 
sluggard," says the wise man, " consider her 
ways and be wise." 



76 ABOUT SPIDERS. 

So doth the little busy bee 

Improve each shining hour; 
And gathers honey all the day, 

From every opening flower. 

^Ve come now to the family of spiders. 
They are workers, too, in their way, but their 
labors are devised only to carry on their great 
business of preying upon other insects. They 
are carnivorous insects ; made to live upon 
flesh, just as the animals of the cat tribe live 
upon other animals, and as the hawks prey 
upon other birds. They serve a very impor- 
tant purpose in the insect world, for they help 
to keep other tribes, which would increase too 
rapidly, in their proper proportion. 

Many people have a natural dislike to a Spi- 
der. They are known to bite, that is, to sting — 
flies, at least — and there is a kind of fear that 
they may sting men or children. They seem 
to be very crafty, and then they run so fast, 
and in such unexpected ways, that young 
ladies think it quite proper to scream, or run, 
if a Spider happens to come her way. Then the 



GOLDSMITH'S SPIDER. 77 

housekeepers hate them because they spin webs 
in the corners ; the webs gather dust, and the 
room is untidy. The offending webs are swept 
down, but the Spiders are diligent, and in a few 
hours replace the webs. So the housewives 
search diligently, and without mercy put the 
persevering insects to death. It may be that 
perseverance, as an abstract quality, is not as 
valuable as some people think. Perseverance 
in a good cause, to attain a desirable object, is 
very commendable, but perseverance in an evil 
way only makes the evil worse. "We are apt 
to think that ways which are not in harmony 
with our ways are wrong, and so the housewife 
very much dislikes the perseverance of the 
Spider. 

Goldsmith writes of a Spider which he 
watched. It was three days making its web ; 
then another Spicier came, and in the battle 
which the two had for the web they nearly 
ruined it. Three days more were spent in 
repairing damages. When the web was com- 
plete again, a wasp was caught in it, and as the 



7 8 ABOUT SPIDERS. 

Spider did not dare engage so powerful an ene- 
my, it cut the bands and let the wasp go. But 
the web was so torn that the insect thought 
it easier to make a new one, than to repair 
the old. This new web Goldsmith destroyed, 
and the Spider made another. Again he de- 
stroyed the work, but the poor creature could 
spin no more. It had spun four entire webs, 
besides making repairs enough to complete an- 
other, and had worked nearly fifteen days. Its 
only resource for a living was to drive another 
Spider from its web, and take possession. 

In shape and structure the Spiders are all 
similar, but unlike most other insects. A wasp 
a bee, or an ant, has three distinct parts — a 
head, a body or thorax, and a belly or abdo- 
men ; and these three parts are connected by 
slender cords or tubes. The Spider's head 
and body seem to have been soldered into one 
piece, as if a man's head were set firmly upon 
his shoulders. Naturalists call this the cephalo- 
thorax, or head-chest. Its body, as well as the 
eight legs which are joined to it, is covered with 



HOW THEY SPIN. 79 

plate armor of strong scales. The fore part 
has two branches, which might be called arms, 
each furnished at the end with a curved sting, 
shaped like the claw of a cat. Each claw has 
a tiny opening near the point, through which 
poison passes into the wound which it gives. 
When a fly is caught in its toils, the Spider 
runs to it, and strikes with these arms, inflict- 
ing wounds with its poisoned dagger-claws. In 
different parts of the head the Spider has sev- 
eral eyes, generally eight, but sometimes only 
six, and these eyes are arranged differently in 
different species. The number seems to make 
up for their want of motion. 

The hind part of the Spider is covered with 
fine supple skin, and clothed with hair, Near 
the end are four, five, or six, little swollen spots 
or spinners. Each of these has a multitude of 
little tubes, so many that the microscope has 
shown a thousand in a space no bigger than a 
pin's point. Out of these tubes comes the mate- 
rial of the Spider's web. At a little distance, 
the threads from all these tubes of one spin- 



8o ABOUT SPIDERS. 

ner join, and then the strands from all the 
spinners are joined together. Thus the thin 
spider-line which one can barely see, as it glit- 
ters with moisture in the sunshine, and in many 
positions can not see at all, is made of four 01 
six strands, each strand composed of more than 
a thousand threadlets. This wonderful cable is 
strong enough to support the Spider herself. 
She often stops spinning in mid-air, turns back 
and climbs up the same cord to the place 
whence she let herself fall. 

The spinning of the Garden Spider is proba- 
bly not more curious than that of any other, but 
it is rather more easily observed. Sometimes 
one begins her web on the outside of a window, 
and is easily watched from within. She begins 
by pressing the spinners against the wood of 
the window frame ; a little of the gum exudes, 
and fastens one end of the line. She runs 
along, giving out line as she goes, until she finds 
a good place to fasten at, where she presses her- 
self against the wall, making the other end se- 
cure. She first stretches a few lines about the 



THE GARDEN SPIDER'S WEB. 8 1 

space which the web is to fill, forming a triangle, 
or a four-sided figure. She then draws a line 
across the middle of this space. All these lines 
she makes very strong, doubling some of them 
several times. If any of them seems to become 
slack, she fastens a line near one end, and pulls 
it aside, until the main line is taut. Now she 
goes to the middle of the cross line, fastens a 
line there, and then runs back to the margin 
and fastens it an inch or so from the end of the 
cross line. She goes to the middle, and 
stretches another line in another direction, and 
then another, as if she were putting in the 
spokes of a wheel. While doing this she does 
not put in the rays or spokes on one side first, 
but draws her lines in opposite directions, keep- 
ing the strains all the time even. When she 
is about the first part of the w T ork, running 
the marginal lines, and placing the first few 
spokes, she works slowly, stopping now and 
then to plan ; but as the web progresses, she 
seems to have solved her problem to her satis 
faction, and hurries on the work. 



82 ABOUT SPIDERS. 

Presently the rays are all set. Then she 
goes to the centre, and lays down a spiral line, 
fastening it to every spoke, and drawing it 
round and round, at even distances, in ever 
widening circles, until she comes to the out- 
side. The main lines and rays are made stout 
and firm. The spiral lines are very elastic, and 
may be drawn far out of place without break- 
ing. The garden Spider finishes her web in a 
few hours. She works as well by night as by 
day ; in the dark as in the light. 

When her web is done, she hangs herself in 
the middle of it, with her head downwards, 
waiting until some insect becomes entangled in 
her snare. When she feels the web move, she 
rushes to the spot. If the game be small, she 
thrusts in her dagger, and kills it at once. If 
it be large, and there is danger that its strug- 
gles will tear the web, she at once winds rt 
round and round with cords, which she spins 
as she goes. She ties it, wing and foot, until 
its struggles can do no harm ; then she gives 
the fatal blow, and eats the victim at her lei- 



THE NEPHIL PLUMIPES. 8.3 

sure. If the insect is so large that she can not 
manage it, she cuts away the threads as quick 
as possible, and lets it go, before it has torn her 
web in pieces. 

A writer for the " Atlantic Monthly," a sur- 
geon in the United States Array, gives an inter- 
esting account of the spinning of a kind of Spi- 
der, Nephila plumipes, which he found on one 
of the sea islands near Charleston. These Spi- 
ders were quite large. The females were from 
an inch to an inch and a quarter long ; the 
males were only about one fourth of an inch 
Jong, and about one hundred and twenty would 
nave weighed as much as one of their buxom 
wives. Accident showed him that he could 
reel the silk from the living Spider. He there- 
fore gathered as many as he could find, and 
brought them north to experiment with. 
"When ready to spin, he fastened each in a 
little frame of cardboard, which would hold 
the insect without hurting it. Then he reeled 
the silk upon a suitable reel. From one he 
wound about one thousand yards, and from 



84 ABOUT SPIDERS. 

another over two miles of silk. A single thread 
sustained a weight of fiftv-four grains. 

The silk from the same Spider was of differ- 
ent colors and qualities. At the same instant 

he wound from one insect one thread golden 
yellow, and another bright silver white. If the 
two ran together, they made one light yellow 
thread. The white si:k. when dry. was firm 
and unyielding, suitable for the rays of a Spi- 
der's web. The vellow was verv elastic, like 
that used for the spiral rings which bind the 
rays together. There was also a pale blue silk 
which seemed to be used to tie up an insect 
after it was caught in the web. Enough si'.k 
was reeled to be woven in a loom, upon a warp 
of black si'.k. so as to make a bit of ribbon 
two inches wide, showing that it was real silk. 

The House Spider usually puts her web in 
some corner. She runs out as far as she in- 
tends to spread the web, fastens a thread to 
the wood, then goes back to the corneir and out 
on the other side, until she comes opposite r 
place where she first made the thread fast, and 



THE HOUSE SPIDER'S WEB, 85 

there fixes the other end. Then she places a 
second and a third thread beside the first, for 
these make the foundation of her whole work. 
From these she draws other lines to the angle, 
and then she works back and forth over the 
whole, until the piece of gauze is done. She 
then stretches a great number of threads from 
side to side above her web, crossing them every 
way. These lines are arranged not unlike the 
tackling of a ship, and often reach two or three 
feet high. The flies passing through the space 
become entangled, fall upon the web below, 
and are caught. Besides all this, she makes a 
round funnel, for a hiding place, below the 
web, in the corner, or behind some piece of 
furniture. Here she waits and watches, out of 
sight. If the least touch disturbs the web, she 
feels it, for the rays from every part pass down 
into this funnel, and she rushes forth to learn 
the cause. 

A Spider of Jamaica is called the Trap-door 
Spider. This insect digs a burrow in the 
ground, and lines it first with coarse, rough 



86 



ABOUT. SPIDERS. 



web, which seems more like the paper of the 
wasp's nest than the silk of the Spider. The 
inner lining is smooth and soft, and may be 
drawn out of the other, without injuring either. 
The tube is placed where the surface of the 
ground is a little sloping, and the mouth is 
covered with a door, made like the lining of 
the tube. This door is fastened by a hinge at 
the upper edge, in such a position that it falls 
into place by its own weight. The outside is 
covered with earth, which perfectly conceals 
the nest. A stranger may well be startled at 
seeing a hole open in the ground at his feet, 
and a large Spider peep out to observe what is 
going on. One of these Spiders dug its tube 
in cultivated ground. After it was made, the 
earth was heaped over it about three inches; 
the Spider finished out its tube, and made a 
second door at the new surface. 

This Spider is about an inch and a half long. 
It leases its burrow at night and hunts for its 
prey. If any one attempts to raise the trap, it 
hooks its hind legs into the door, and its fore 



7 HE MT GALE. 87 

legs into the side of the tube, and holds on with 
all its might. It will suffer its nest to be dug 
out of the ground and carried away without 
leaving it ; in this way they have been caught 
and put where they could be watched. Other 
species which make their home thus are found 
in Australia and elsewhere. 

In Surinam, and on the Amazon river, Spi- 
ders are found of the genus Mygale, which 
destroy birds. When this was first reported, 
it was not believed, but the Spiders have been 
caught in the very act. When we consider the 
size which they attain, the wonder ceases. One 
is described as two inches in length of body, 
and more than seven inches in expanse of legs. 
It was covered with coarse red and gray hairs. 
Some of these huge Spiders make a dense web ; 
one digs a burrow two feet deep, and lines it 
with silk. When the children catch one of 
these fellows, they tie a string about its waist, 
and lead it along like a dog. The Mygale 
sheds its hairs easily and they pierce the skin 



88 ABOUT SPIDERS. 

of one who handles it, causing painful irrita- 
tion. 

The name Tarantula is given to several large 
Spiders that live in the ground and hunt for 
prey. The Italians have a belief that one kind 
will cause a disease which can be cured only by 
dancing a long while to peculiar music. The 
sting really makes but a slight wound. 

One member of this family lives in the water. 
Still it lives by breathing air, and therefore it 
takes a supply along with it down under the 
water into its nest. Like all the other Spiders, 
this makes its nest of silk ; it is generally about 
as large as an acorn, egg-shaped, and open 
below. This cell is filled with air ; and if the 
Spider be kept in a glass vessel, it may be seen 
in its cell, resting in Spider fashion, with its 
head downward. Where the air came from 
was, for a long time, the question. Some 
thought it was the oxygen which was formed 
by the water plants. 

A few years since, Mr. Bell saw some of 
these Spiders spin their webs, and fill them 



CATCHING BUBBLES OF AIR. 89 

with air. When one had made her web, she 
went to the surface, grasped a bubble of air, 
descended quickly to her nest, and thrust the 
air in. Then she came up for more, and aftei 
twelve or fourteen journeys she had laid in hei 
supply. When enough had been collected, the 
Spider crept in and settled herself to rest in her 
transparent cell. 

" The manner in which the animal possesses 
itself of the bubble is very curious. It ascends 
to the surface slowly, assisted by a thread 
attached to a leaf below and to one at the sur- 
face. As soon as it comes near the surface, it 
turns the extremity of the abdomen upwards, 
and exposes a portion of the body to the air 
for an instant, then with a jerk it snatches, as 
it were, a bubble of air, which is attached 
not only to the hairs which cover the abdomen, 
but is held on by the two hinder legs, which 
are crossed at an acute angle near the extrem- 
ity, this crossing of the legs taking pllffie the 
instant the bubble is seized. The little crea- 
ture then descends more rapidly and regains its 

2F 



9° ABOUT SPIDERS 

cell, always by the same route, turns the abdo- 
men within it, and leaves the bubble." 

The water Spiders feed on the insects which 
swarm in the water, eating their prey in their 
homes. 

Another aquatic Spider builds a raft. It 
gathers together a mass of dry leaves and sim- 
ilar things which will float, and fastens it with 
silk threads. On this raft it sits, floating wher- 
ever the winds and waters carry it. When the 
water insects come to the top, it seizes them 
before they can escape. Others fly over the sur- 
face for their prey, and fall into the jaws of this 
Spider-wolf. It is quite large, and very beauti- 
fully colored and marked. 

At certain seasons of the year, large quanti- 
ties of gossamer threads are seen floating in the 
air. They fall upon the grass and streak it 
with fine lines. They gather on the trees. 
The steamboat, plowing up the long lanes of 
water '*"* through forest and prairie, gathers 
streamers and pennons of gossamer on every 
pole, and the rough helmsman frets as the films 



MAKING GOSSAMER. 9 1 

catch upon his eyebrows, and dim his sight. 
All this is made by Spiders. They climb to 
the tops of trees, and pushing the gossamer out 
at their spinners, let it float upon the air until 
its buoyancy is enough to carry them away. 
Balloonists have found these Spiders floating in 
the air above their cars. 

Says Gilbert White : " Every day, in fine 
autumnal weather, do I see these Spiders shoot- 
ing out their web and mounting aloft. They 
will go off from your finger if you will take 
them into your hand; last summer one alighted 
on my book, as I was reading in the parlor, 
and running to the top of the page and sboot- 
ing out a web, took a departure from thence. 
But what I most wondered at was, that it went 
off with considerable swiftness, in a place where 
no air was stirring; and I am sure I did not 
assist it with my breath ; so that these little 
crawlers seem to have, while mounting, some 
locomotive power, without the use of wings, 
and move faster in the air than the air itself." 

There are spiders which lie concealed in a 



9 2 ABOUT SPIDERS, 

rolled up leaf, and seize any insect which comes 
in the way. Others lark in the cup of a flower, 
and hat comes for honey. Some 

hunting Spiders leap upon their prey like 

::\-. and have a way of jumping sideways. 
The upon their game as a cat steals upon 

a bird. If the fly moves, the Spider moves too 
— back forwards, or sideways — until the 

-Yii to be moved by one unseen spirit. 
If the fly takes wing and alights behind the 
Spider, it turns about with the swiftness of 

Eight, too qui$k for the eye to follow. 
When its movements have brought it within 
reach of .: ipa, ::s gag ie sudden and deadly 

The Spider Lb very ful over its young. 

Most species do Dot lay eggs until two years 
old. Then the female prepares a cocoon of 
silk, very thick and strong, in which she pla 
from fifty to a hundred salmon-colored egga 
This sack is I ".en made of two dish-shaped 
piec-. g :aer at the edges. So:; 

i in the crevice of a wail, or 



CARE OF THEIR EGGS. 93 

under the edge of a loose board. In this case 
it is securely fastened by a net-work thrown 
over and about it. It is often carried about by 
the mother, attached beneath the abdomen, or 
held in the jaws as a cat carries her kitten. 

If any attempt is made to carry away this 
treasure, which the mother always watches 
over, she resists it to the utmost. When, taken 
from her, she becomes listless, as if stupefied ; 
if restored, she seizes it eagerly, and runs away 
with it to a safer place. When the young are 
hatched they remain in the cocoon until, at the 
proper time, the mother bites it open and sets 
them free. Even then they do not leave her, 
but remain, like a brood of chickens, under her 
care. She often takes them upon her back; 
she provides food for them, and leads them 
about until they have age and strength to shift 
for themselves. 

The gentleman who obtained the silk spin- 
ners from Charleston harbor, procured a large 
number of these egg sacks, and in a short time 
had a brood of about two hundred thousand. One 



94 ABOUT SPIDERS, 

bright June day he left them on a tray in the 
sun, and on his return found his brood — baked. 
A supply of Spiders, which he kept in little 
paper boxes, furnished a fresh harvest of eggs, 
from which about seven thousand were hatched. 
They appeared in about a month after the eggs 
were laid. For a long time they seemed 
to eat nothing; then they shed their skins, 
and began to grow. As they grew, their 
numbers diminished, and it began to be evident 
that they were eating each other. Shut up in 
the sacks they had nothing else to eat, and the 
weaker ones were a prey to the stronger. They 
were then placed in inverted glass jars, with 
wet sponges in the mouths, and were fed with 
flies, bugs, and afterwards with such flesh as 
bits of chicken's liver. Some of the first fam- 
ily brought north seemed to go into a decline 
and die, for no cause which their keeper could 
understand. He tried various expedients with 
them, but nothing did any good. At last he 
thought of giving them water, although he had 
never known that Spiders drank water. A 



BRUCKS SPIDER. 95 

drop was given on the tip of a camel's hair 
pencil, and was eagerly seized. All the Spi- 
ders drank, some taking several drops. Be- 
sides water to drink they required some mois- 
ture in the air. They became quite tame; 
would eat and drink from a bit of stick, or a 
pin, and when stroked gently, would raise up 
the back like a cat, or put up a foot to push 
away the finger. 

As was said before, the Spider is a type of 
industry and perseverance, no less than the ant 
or the bee. The Scottish farmers love to tell 
that King Robert Bruce once learned a lesson 
of endurance from a Spider. While wandering 
on the wild hills of Arran, he passed a night 
within a poor, deserted cottage. He threw 
himself down upon a heap of straw, and lay, 
with his hands under his head, unable to sleep, 
but gazing up at the rafters of the hut, fes- 
tooned with cobwebs. From long and dreamy 
thoughts about his hopeless condition, and the 
many evils which he had met, he was roused 
to notice the efforts of a poor Spider, which had 



$6 ABOUT SPIDERS. 

begun its work with the first gray light of 
morning. The insect was trying to swing by 
its thread from one rafter to another, but it 
constantly failed, each time swinging back to 
the point from which it sprang. Twelve times 
the little creature made the attempt, and twelve 
times it failed. Without delay it tried again, 
and the rafter was gained. " I accept tie les- 
son," said Bruce, springing to his fe^t ; " I 
shall again venture my life to win th'i battle 
for my country." And* the victory wa> won. 




WINGED ANT-LION. Myrmeleo libelluloides. 



About Dragon-flies. 



Abticulata. — Insecta. 

Order — Newroptera. Net- winged. 

Family — LibettuMdm. 




LONG, slender insect, with 
large head, swollen on either 
side by a huge eye, flying with 
four broad, gauzy wings, is a 
frequent mid-summer visitor. 
He and his mates range up and 
down in the air, pausing here 
a moment, then darting away in 
the most unexpected manner. He comes into 
the house with a great buzz, and makes vain 
attempts to fly back to free air through the 
window pane. He seems to have no particular 



I OO ABOUT DRAGON-FLIES. 

business, except flying about, buzzing, and 
bumping his head. The children call him a 
Darning-needle, because his body is straight 
and slender; and as its long and flexible tail 
twists about more than seems pleasant, they are 
afraid of it ; they believe it can sting, and some 
call it a Horse-stinger. But the creature has 
no sting, and can do no harm to man or beast. 
In the insect world he well deserves his name, 
Dragon-fly, for he devours multitudes of other 
insects. When dancing in the sunshine, or in 
the twilight shadows, he is busy catching gnats, 
or sweeping up other minute specks which fly 
in the air. He is not content, even, with such 
small game, but is the eagle among insects, 
pouncing upon unwary butterflies, which he 
drags to some bush to devour at his leisure. 
The water is his birth-place. The eggs, like 
a bunch of grapes, sink to the bottom and 
hatch out six-footed larvae, with dusky brown 
skins. Like many other grubs, when these 
youngsters grow too large for their clothes, 
they split them open, throw tbern away, and 



LARVA AND PUPA. IOI 

soon appear in a new and larger suit. When 
full grown, a pair of scales appears on the back, 
which is a mere suggestion of wings. The 
head is then armed with a long, jointed trunk, 
fitted at the end with a pair of strong hooks. 
While at rest, this trunk lies folded over the 
face, like a mask ; if any prey passes by, the 
trunk leaps forth, and the hooks grapple the 
unwary victim. 

The Dragon-fly lives as larva and pupa, two 
years. When ready to come out into the 
world, it climbs to the top of some water plant, 
into the sunshine. The eyes show when the 
change is coming. Instead of dark, dull places 
where eyes might be, they become clear and 
bright, and the real eye shines through the 
mask. If one can be found at this crisis, and 
fastened where the change can be seen, it will 
yield much amusement. 

First a rent oomes in the skin along the 
back, to the face; here another rent opens 
crosswise, over the eyes. Now that he has 
bi*rst his case, he carefully picks out his legs, 



I O 2 ABOUT DRA G ON- FLIES. 

and then hangs his head down, motionless, as 
if dead. He has only hung his moist legs out 
to dry. Presently he lifts himself again, grasps 
the case with his feet, and slowly draws out his 
long tail, and wet, sodden wings. But the tail 
has not its full length, and the wings are folded. 
He rests awhile; the tail expands, the wings 
unfold, and as they harden, glisten like sheets 
of mica. While in this wet condition, the 
Dragon-fly is careful not to touch them, even 
with its body ; for a wrong twist now would 
make a deformity for ever. The change may 
be passed in a quarter of an hour, or may take 
several hours, according to the clearness of the 
air. When the wings are fully spread and 
hardened, and the bright colors of the mailed 
body are fully set, he leaves his twig and begins 
his long journey through the air. Like a 
newly commissioned Alabama, armed and sup- 
plied for a long cruise upon the high seas, he 
sets forth, a piratical rover, to capture, plunder, 
and destroy. 

While living in the water, this creature Bas 



HOW THE LARVA MOVES. I03 

a way of moving about peculiar to itself. If 
seen at the bottom of clear water, it seems to 
move merely because it wills to move, with 
nothing like walking or swimming — it goes. 
But if a few grains of sand be near, they seem 
to will to go backward, at the same time. Put 
one of the larvae into water colored with milk 
or indigo, and then suddenly change him into 
clear water, and the motion will be explained. 
He will be seen to spirt a stream of colored 
fluid into the clear water, and it will be found 
that he has in his abdomen a set of force 
pumps. These fill slowly from the fluid in 
which the larva floats, and then drive out the 
water backwards, while the same force which 
ejects the water, pushes the insect forwards. 
Some English ship-builders propose to drive 
steamships by this plan, which it may be they 
borrowed from this very insect. They take 
water through the bottom of the ship, and then 
drive it out astern by powerful steam pumps. 
In this way they expect to force the vessel rap- 
idly through the water. 



1 04 ABOUT DRA G ON-FLIES. 

We nave mentioned the large globes of eye? 
on either side of the Dragon-fly's head. Under 
a small lens these eyes seem to be covered with 
fine net-work. A magnifier of larger power 
shows that the surface is composed of regular, 
six-sided faces, so that it resembles a minute 
crystal honey comb. Farther examination 
shows that each eye contains more than 12,000 
of these lenses, and that what we call the eye is 
only a bundle of eyes. 

Opticians grind a multitude of flat faces on a 
rounded bit of glass, which they set in a tube. 
Any thing seen through this tube seems multi- 
plied as many times as there are faces on the 
glass ; the image is very pretty, but very much 
confused. We need not suppose, however, that 
the Dragon-fly is puzzled by his compound eye, 
or that he sees more than one image. Although 
we have two eyes, we do not see double. The 
nerves which carry word to the brain that the 
eyes see something, meet just behind the eyes, 
and perhaps, for this reason, report but one 
object. If two eyes thus unite their results, so 



MULTIPLE EYES. IO5 

that we do not see double, in the same way 
25,000 eyes in one head may combine all their 
results. The fact that we see so many images 
in the multiplying glass will not trouble us if 
we remember that our own eye is behind the 
glass, instead of a bundle of nerves, and there 
is no way of gathering all the images into 
one. 

There are many species of Dragon-flies, 
strong of wing, and beautifully colored with 
bright blue, green, scarlet, glossy black, or 
transparent white. The body is often of one 
hue, while the wings are barred or spotted with 
others. Often the male and female of the same 
species are variously marked. These bright 
colors always vanish when the animal dies ; in 
a few days the most brilliant specimens will 
have faded to a blackish brown. The only 
way to preserve them is to remove the interio 
substance, and fill the space with paint of the 
proper color, and this method does not repaj 
the time and labor spent. 

One tribe belonging to this family are called 



io6 



ABOUT DRAGON-FLIES. 



Scorpion-flies. The rings near the end of the 
tail are quite slender, and move easily in any 
direction. The last ring is stout and thick, and 
bears a strong pair of forceps. When the fly 
is at rest, the tail is curved over its back like 
that of a puppy, but when alarmed it flourishes 
the tail in a very alarming style, the forceps 
snapping as if something serious would happen 
if there were a chance. 

Some other members of the order Neuroptera, 
or nerve-winged insects, are worthy of notice. 

The large, prominent eyes of the Lace-wings, 
or Golden-eyes, glow with changeful flames of 
gold and ruby, as if on fire. These insects are 
small, but their brilliancy and their broad 
wings make them quite conspicuous. The 
larva of the lace- wing is very voracious. It is 
particularly fond of the plant lice, and there- 
fore is quite useful. A single one will clear a 
densely crowded twig in a short time. It will, 
however, turn and eat the eggs in which its 
brothers are ready to hatch, if it can reach 
them. To prevent this, the instinct of the 



THE ANT-LION. I07 

mother makes her spin a slender thread, like a 

bit of bristle, about a third of an inch long ; 

the lower end of this thread she glues fast to 

a twig, and on the upper end she leaves an egg 

about the size and shape of the letter 0. So 

she places a dozen in a group, which is easily 

mistaken for a patch of moss. For a long time 

these were really supposed to be a variety of 

moss, nobody suspecting that they were the 

eggs of an insect. When the first hatches, he 

falls down upon the twig. He reaches up to 

breakfast on another egg^ but he can not climb 

the slender waving stalk, so he creeps away, 

and finds his meal elsewhere. 

A somewhat celebrated insect of this family 

is the Ant-lion. In its perfect state it much 

resembles the Dragon-fly, but the wings are 

broader and softer. It is most remarkable 

when a larva. Then it resembles a flattened 

maggot, with long legs and large jaws ; but the 

legs are of little use for walking, as it moves 

mostly by means of its abdomen. It is very 

slow, and yet very voracious, living on insects 

2G 



io8 



ABOUT DRAGON-FIES. 



much quicker than itself, which it catches alive. 
As it can not take them in open chase, it sets 
an ambush by digging a pit, and lying con- 
cealed at the bottom. In this work it begins 
at the outside. It presses its body down into 
the sand, and then backs round in a circle, 
plowing the earth and throwing it outward. 
So it goes round and round, drawing one fur- 
row after another until it comes to the middle. 
This plowing is repeated several times, as long 
as it will turn the earth outward. Then it 
begins to dig. It goes to the middle, and flings 
the sand out with its head, and smoothes the 
sides of the pit, down to the centre, into a reg- 
ular funnel. If it finds small stones, it jerks 
them, one by one, over the wall. If too large 
for that, it takes them on its back and carries 
them up the slope, and tumbles them over the 
edge. Sometimes, after toilsomely tugging until 
a stone is nearly at the top, the pebble topples 
off and rolls to the bottom again, plowing a fur- 
row as it goes down. The Ant-lion tries again, 
pushing the load up the same furrow ; he 



THE ANT-LION'S PIT-FALL. IO9 

*rorks 011 until the stone is removed, or until 
repeated failure satisfies him that he is not 
equal to the task. Then he leaves the unfin- 
ished pit, and digs another. 

When finished, the pit is about two inches 
deep, and three inches in diameter. The Ant- 
lion lies at the bottom, only his jaws being in 
sight. When an ant, journeying that way, 
looks over the edge, the loose sand under its 
feet begins to slide, and lets it down into the 
pit. It struggles to regain the top, but that 
ouly hastens its fall, and down it goes into the 
jaws of the hungry monster which waits for it 
at the bottom. If the ant succeeds in climbing 
up, and is likely to get out of danger, the Ant- 
lion shovels sand upon its head, and flings it 
after the escaping insect. Overwhelmed by 
this storm the ant is borne to the bottom. 
When the juices are sucked out of him, the 
empty skin is tossed over the mound, and the 
pit is put in order for the next unfortunate. 

Thus the Ant-lion lives for about two years. 
Then it wraps itself in a covering made of sand 



I IO ABOUT DRAGON-FLIES. 

glued together, and bound by a kind of silk 
which it spins. In about three weeks it emer- 
ges in its perfect form. 

Another of the Neuroptera is the May-fly, or 
Ephemera. The early days of summer bring 
vast swarms of them, which vanish as suddenly 
as they come ; often a single day is sufficient 
for the entire round of their perfect life. Hence 
the name Ephemera — "(lasting) for a day." It 
is, however, a mistake to suppose that a day- is 
enough for the entire life of the insect from the 
egg to the grave. On the contrary, two years 
are passed in the water before the winged form 
is assumed. Like other creatures that flit a 
few brief days about watering places — although 
it does not carry a Saratoga trunk full of finery 
— it can not do without a change of dress. So, 
after dancing its set in one costume, it retires 
to its chamber — a twig — kicks off its garment, 
and appears in another, bright and new, with 
larger wings, broader plumes, and longer train. . 

In both dresses, the May-fly is very eagerly 
taken by fish, and adroit anglers use them, or 




SECTION OF TERMITES' NEST. 



TERMITES, 113 

imitate them, when they would bring wary old 
trout from their deepest hiding places. Very 
much alike — Newport belles, and Newport 
May-flies ! 



jERMITEa 

The remarkable insects known as Termites, 
or White Ants, though commonly called ants, 
are not classed with that order, but among 
the Neuroptera, on account of the structure 
of their wings in their perfect stage. Like 
the ants, the Termites live in societies, which 
become immensely large. They build for 
themselves huge cities, great mounds, coni- 
cal like sugar-loaves, sometimes twenty feet 
high, and more than a hundred feet in cir- 
cuit. They make these of clay, and so solid 
and strong, that the wild cattle climb on them 
without breaking through. Within they are 
fall of chambers and passages. There are 



114 ABOUT TERMITES. 

apartments for the king and queen ; nurseries 
for the young; garrisons of soldiers; dwellings 
for workmen, and storehouses for food. These 
edifices are said to surpass the dwellings of 
ants, bees, and beavers, as much as the archi- 
tecture of Europeans excels the rude huts of 
Indians or Bushmen. Some species build in 
the ground, partly beneath and partly above 
the surface; others build on branches of trees, 
and often at a great height. 

One of the best known species is the Termes 
bellicosus of Africa. In Senegal, and parts of 
Central Africa, their numerous clusters of hills 
resemble the huts in the native villages. The 
first hill which they make, in beginning a 
settlement, rises above the ground perhaps a 
foot. While this grows larger and higher, 
others spring up at a little distance, and still 
others, until a circle of small hills surrounds 
the larger one in the centre. These all keep 
on growing; presently they join each other, 
and the middle cone includes or covers up the 
outer ones. Mean while the inside works 



THEIR BUILDINGS. H5 

which were first made, are pulled down, and 
the materials are used for building the outer 
cones. They have no precise form, the only 
care being to make them firm and strong. 
Until they are six or eight feet high they are 
quite bare, but after that they increase more 
slowly, and grass often grows upon them. In 
the hot season, when the grass becomes dry, 
the whole resembles a large haystack. 

The royal apartment, as the most important 
room of the house, is placed in the centre. It 
is shaped like half of an egg, cut lengthwise, 
and is at first about an inch long; it is after- 
wards enlarged to suit the increased size of the 
queen, until it is six or eight inches long, or 
even more. The openings through the walls 
and roof of this room are large enough to 
admit the workers which are in attendance, 
but the royal occupants can never pass out; 
they are life-long prisoners. A set of cham- 
bers about the royal cell contains the soldiers 
who protect, and the workers who serve the 
regal prisoners. These rooms are connected 



n6 



ABOUT TERMITES. 



together; they extend a foot or two all round 
the central apartment. They are surrounded 
by the nurseries and the storehouses. The 
latter are built of clay, and filled with gums 
and similar vegetable substances. The walls 
and partitions of the nurseries are made of 
woody fibre, cemented together by the saliva 
of the insect. When the nest is small, they are 
near the royal chamber. As the family grows, 
and the attendants of the queen become more 
numerous, the nurseries are moved farther 
away. They are enclosed in clay chambers, 
like the granaries, and the wooden partitions 
and linings would seem to prevent too sudden 
changes of temperature. 

A large arched open space, two or three feet 
high, is left under the central dome, with 
arched passages on every side, which allow the 
warm air to circulate freely, and keep the nur- 
series at a proper degree of heat. The shell 
which forms the great dome is traversed by 
large round or oval passages, several inches 
wide. These ascend spirally, quite to the top, 



UNDER GR O UND R OADS. 1 1 7 

opening into each other, and into the central 
dome at proper distances. Other passages of 
less size connect the larger ones, and others 
still lead far away under ground. Even if all 
the Termites within a hundred yards of a house 
were destroyed, those which live farther away 
would extend their galleries to the house, eat 
up the merchandise in it, and destroy every 
thing. If they can not go under ground in the 
way they wish, they make pipes along the sur- 
face, of the same material as their nest; they 
often carry these covered ways above ground 
over the deeper paths, and make frequent com- 
munications between them, so that they car 
escape by one, if they are attacked in th 
other. 

Each village of Termites has a king and 
queen, an army of soldiers, and a population 
of laborers. There are about a hundred work 
ers to one soldier; they are about a quarter 
of an inch long, very busy and very swift. The 
soldiers are half an inch long, and as large as 
fifteen of the workers. The winged or perfect 



n8 



ABOUT TERMITES. 



insects are nearly an inch long, and their wings 
spread above two inches and a half. They are 
equal in bulk to two soldiers. The young Ter- 
mites come out of the nest just after the first 
shower has opened the rainy season. The im- 
mense swarms fill the air as with dense white 
snow flakes. Every living thing seems to be 
their enemy. The ants fall upon them and 
eat them ; birds come in flocks and pick them 
up; reptiles and ant-eaters devour them, and 
the black men gather them as the greatest deli- 
cacy. Not one pair in a hundred thousand 
escapes alive, but that pair will, by and by, pro- 
duce a hundred thousand a day. 

While the winged insects are fl}ing, and 
being eaten, the workers are running about on 
the ground searching for them. If a pair is 
found, they are at once chosen king and queen, 
and their new subjects proceed to build them a 
house. They are shut up in a little clay cham- 
ber, with only one small entrance, too small to 
allow them to pass out. Presently the female 
begins to enlarge in a wonderful manner; and 



THE QUEEN. 119 

the house has to be enlarged to correspond. 
In time, it is thought about two years, she is 
about three-fourths of an inch wide and three 
inches long — specimens have been found of 
twice that length. Her body is now oblong, 
banded at intervals of half an inch with dark 
muscles. The transparent skin is of a fine 
cream color, through which the intestines, and 
the motion of the fluids, may be clearly seen. 
When she has reached this size, she produces 
about eighty thousand eggs a day. The attend- 
ant workers carry these away to the nurseries, 
where they are hatched, and the young pro- 
vided with every thing needed, until they are 
old enough to shift for themselves. 

When a person enters a piece of ground 
which is marked by many of the covered ways 
of these insects, he hears an alarm given by dis- 
tinct hisses. After that he may search the 
paths for Termites in vain ; they have escaped 
by the underground lines. The tunnels are 
made large enough for passing and repassing 
without trouble. They serve as shelter from 



I 20 ABOUT TERMITES. 

light and air, and particularly from the attacks 
of other ants. When driven, from these defen- 
ces the ants pounce upon them, and carry 
them to their own nests to feed their young 
ones. If the defence is broken, the work- 
ers at once set about repairing it, and even, 
if three or four yards is destroyed, the place 
will be rebuilt before the next morning. If 
the gallery is often destroyed, it will be given 
up and another made, unless it leads to some 
favorite plunder. The main roads are made 
deep under ground, going under the very foun- 
dations of houses and stores, and come up 
under the floors, or through the posts on which 
the building rests. While some are boring the 
posts through and through, and taking out all 
their fibres, others climb the outside and enter 
the roof. If they find thatch, which they seem 
to like very well, they bring up clay and make 
covered ways in and through the roof as long 
as it will stand. Thus they carry away, bit by 
bit, every sill, and post, and beam, floor, ceil- 
ing, and partition. The outside seems firm 



ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH. 121 

and sound, but the whole will crumble at a 
touch. Sometimes they seem to know that a 
post sustaius weight, and then they fill up the 
cavities which they make with clay, packing it 
in more solidly than man could. The posts are 
found filled with material as hard and compact 
as many kinds of building stone. They will 
eat the very mat on which a man sleeps. They 
carry away all the wood of his strong box, leav- 
ing a shell as thin as paper. They devour his 
books, his records, his correspondence. If a 
piece of furniture be left too long in one place, 
nothing will remain but the surface. A man 
may be rich to-day, and poor to-morrow from 
their ravages. 

It is a difficult task to destroy them. Any 
thing which is washed with corrosive sublimate 
they respect, but this can not be applied to 
many things. If the house is broken into, 
the soldiers come to the breach to defend 
it. They may be destroyed, but they are 
not those which do the mischief. The 
workers are left, and the business of the village 



*22 ABOUT TERMITES. 

goes on just as before. The only plan which is 
at all sure is to continue pulling down the nest 
until the chamber of the queen is found, and 
she is destroyed. Then the others seem to be 
bewildered, lose courage, and finally abandon 
the nest. 

About the year 1780, some bales of goods, 
brought from St. Domingo, were stored in La 
Rochelle, and in other French seaports, and 
thus the Termites were introduced. At La 
Rochelle they took possession of the arsenal, 
and of the prefect's house, invading rooms, offi- 
ces, court, and garden. A stake driven, or a 
plank left, in the garden, was destroyed forth- 
with. One fine morning the records of the 
office were found ruined, though not the least 
trace of damage was seen on the outside. The 
Termites had mined the wood work, pierced 
the card-board, and eaten up parchments and 
papers, but had always scrupulously respected 
the upper leaf, and the edges of all the leaves. 
By chance a clerk raised one of the leaves 
which hid this ruin, and discovered the injury. 



About Wa 



sps. 



ARTICULATA — INSBCTA. 

Order — Hym&noptera. Membrane-winged- 
Family — Vespidce . Wasp -like . 




> ASPS attract attention, for two 
reasons. They have sharp, 
venomous stings, which they 
are ready to use on small pro- 
vocation, and so make us 
afraid of them ; and they build 
for themselves curious homes, 
which are well worth our 
study. Those that we are most familiar with, 
build with mud, or paper. 

The paper makers usually choose some shel- 
tered place, under a fence rail, in a bush, in a 



126 



ABOUT WASPS. 



hollow tree, or under the projecting eaves of a 
house. As in the case of the humble bees, the 
mother of the family, single handed and alone, 
lays the foundation of the house, and makes 
preparation for rearing a family. She and a 
few like herself are the sole survivors of the 
thronged cities of last year. All the others 
perished at the coming of the frost which 
chilled her blood within her and kept her tor- 
pid till the warm south winds of spring awoke 
her from her long sleep. 

"When quite a little boy, the writer used to 
go away alone into a closet, to learn his les- 
son. The blinds at the only window in the 
room were always closed, giving barely light 
enough to read, when sitting on a stool 
beneath it. One spring day a "Wasp came 
between the blind and the glass, and after 
much buzzing and much walking about, began 
to build. She first laid down, beneath the under 
edge of the upper sash, a patch of paper about a 
third oi an inch in diameter ; then, standing on 
this, she raised cup-shaped edges all about her, 



HO W THET BUILD. 1 27 

increasing outward and downward, like the cup 

of an acorn, and then drawing together a little, 

until a little house was made just about the size 

and shape of a white oak acorn, except that 

she left a hole in the bottom where she might 

go in and out. 

Then she began again at the top, and 

laid another cover of paper over the first, 

just as far away as the length of her legs 

made it easy for her to work. Now it was 

clear that she made the first shell as a frame 

or a scaffold on which she might stand to 

make the second. She would fly away, and 

after a few minutes come back, with nothing 

that could be seen, either in her feet or in 

her jaws. But she at once set to laying her 

paper-stuff, which came out of her mouth, upon 

the edge of the work she had made before. As 

she laid the material she walked backward, 

building and walking, until she had laid a 

patch a little more than an eighth of an incn 

wide and half or three-quarters of an inch long. 

When laid, the pulp looked like wet brown 

2H 



128 ABOUT WASPS. 

paper, which soon dried to an ashen gray, and 
still resembled coarse paper. As she laid the 
material, she occasionally went over it again, 
putting a little more here and there, in the thin 
places; generally the work was well done the 
first time. 

So the work went on. The second paper 
shell was about as large as a pigeon's egg; 
then a third was made as large as a hen's egg; 
then another still larger. After a time the 
wasp seemed to go inside to get her material, 
and it appeared that she was taking down the 
first house, and putting the paper upon the out- 
side. If so, she did not bring out pieces and 
patch them together as a carpenter, saving of 
work, would do, but she chewed the paper up, 
and made fresh pulp of it, just as the first was 
made. Of course the boy did not open the 
window, for he was too curious to see the work 
go on, and then he was afraid of the sting. 
How large the nest grew he never learned, for 
he soon after left the school, and saw no more 
of it. The Algebra and Latin which he learned 



FURNISHING THE INTERIOR. 1 29 

that term were soon forgotten — he was really 
too young to study either, then — but he has 
not forgotten how the Wasp made her nest. 

But he now knows pretty nearly what the 
Wasp did after his oversight of her ceased. She 
made the nest about as large as a goose egg, 
hanging with the broad end up, and with a 
hole as large as one's little finger at the bottom. 
She took out of the inside all but two or three 
thicknesses, and then she built paper combs in 
the vacancy. These paper combs were not 
made like the combs of the honey bees, stand- 
ing upon edge, with the cells opening in the 
sides, but were hung to the top, with the cells 
opening downward. She made first a stout 
post or rope of paper, hanging from the centre 
of the room. To the end of this rope she fast- 
ened a floor, which she spread out flat and level 
until it nearly reached the sides of the room. 
Underneath this floor, which might quite as 
well be called a roof, or a ceiling, she made a 
number of cells, and laid an egg in each. It is 
not quite settled whether she builds the cells 



13° ABOUT WASPS. 

first, and then lays the roof over them, or 
whether she makes the roof first, and then 
places the cells under it; probably the two 
parts are made nearly at the same time. 

As soon as the first eggs are hatched, the 
cares of the mother Wasp increase, for now she 
has a hungry family to feed. She must supply 
their wants, enlarge their cells, make more 
cells, lay mare eggs, make additions to the 
house, and all together. Was ever poor human 
mother, left to bring up a family alone, more 
driven with work? In due time the older 
grubs are full grown, stop eating, and spin a 
silken cover over their cells. After a short sea- 
son, having passed from grubs to pupae, and 
then to perfect Wasps, they come forth. They 
take the heavy work upon themselves, and the 
toil goes merrily on. Day by day their num- 
bers increase, and soon the mother Wasp has 
nothing to do but lay eggs in the cells which 
her children have made. 

When the first tier of cells is full, another 
is made below it. Several pendant cords 



WASPS* FONDNESS FOR FLIES. 13 1 

similar to the first, are fastened to various 
points of the tier above. Cells are hung upon 
them as before, and continually increased in 
number, until the several parts unite to form 
a second complete tier. The mouths are 
placed downwards, and the roof serves as a 
floor on which the Wasps walk when taking 
care of the young brood. As among the hum- 
ble-bees, the first Wasps that come out are 
workers. The males and females are not seen 
until autumn. A large nest may contain seven 
or eight thousand cells, and each cell is occupied, 
on the average, by three tenants in succession. 
All the young grubs have to be fed ; not with 
honey, as young bees are fed, but with animal 
food, usually flies. We can easily see that a 
good sized Wasp's nest, or vespiary, may be 
quite a serviceable thing about the house, if, in 
the end, the Wasps do not become the greater 
nuisance. 

Mr. Wood says he has seen pigs, covered 
with flies, lying in the warm sunshine, and the 
Wasps pouncing upon them and carrying them 



*3 2 ABOUT WASPS. 



off. It was a curious sight to watch the total 
indifference of the pigs, the busy clustering of 
the flies, which actually blackened the hide in 
some places, and then to see the Wasp just 
clear the wall, dart into the dark mass, and 
retreat again with a fly in its fatal grasp. On 
the average, one Wasp came every ten seconds, 
so that the pig-sty must harve been a valuable 
store house for them. 

The Wasps are hearty eaters, as well as their 
grubs. They prey upon other insects, sugar, 
meat, honey, and fruit. Indeed, they are par- 
ticularly fond of ripe fruit, and always select 
the finest specimens, just when they are in their 
best condition, gnawing holes in them, and 
spoiling them for the table. Still it may be a 
question whether the good they do in destroy- 
ing flies and young caterpillars does not more 
than pay for all the fruit they eat. 

The nests of the paper-making Wasps usu- 
ally vary from six to twelve inches in diameter. 
They sometimes become very much larger. A 
nest is preserved in a museum in Oxford, Eng- 



BEER DRINKERS. 133 

land, which fills a glass case four feet high, by- 
two feet in width. It is turnip shaped, with a 
large knob at the top by which it hangs. This 
nest, when found, was about five inches in 
diameter. It was taken into a house, and hung 
near a window which gave the builders free 
passage to the opkn air. There was no danger 
in this, as the common Wasp has a much better 
temper than the hive bee, and is by no means 
as capricious in the use of his sting. Their cap- 
tor was disposed to give them every meaus of 
iving, and supplied them daily with sugar and 
Deer. They consumed daily a pound of sugar 
and a pint of beer. With plenty to eat they in- 
creased rapidly, and the nest grew as fast. In 
the chamber above, two other nests had been 
placed, and as those workmen were not fed, when 
they found that their kinsmen below were 
faring so sumptuously every day, they deserted 
their own houses, and joined the colony on the 
ground floor. 

The Chartergus Wasp of Ceylon, another 
paper maker, uses its nest as a permanent 



134 ABOUT WASPS. 

home, the same family living in it from year to 
year. This home is enlarged in a way which 
keeps its shape, and allows farther increase 
without trouble. The walls are shaped like the 
sides of a cow bell. The tiers of cells extend 
from side to side, like the regular floors of a 
house. When the house is full, another set of 
cells is built beneath the lowest floor, the wall 
is lengthened down as far, and a new floor is 
made to shut up the bottom ; so that the new 
house is the old one with a new story under. 
In fact, probably all the Wasps learned to 
build by reading Gulliver's Travels. The bells 
of this Wasp are usually about a foot long ; 
one is described which was six feet long, and 
of corresponding width. 

A South American Wasp has been called 
Myrapetra. It builds a nest of a dark, blackish 
brown substance, like papier mdche. The out- 
side of the nest is thickly studded with pro- 
jecting spikes or thorns. Their exact use 
is not known; some have thought that 
they are to protect the nest from wild beasts; 



MUD BUILDERS. 135 

others suggest that they are meant to conceal 
the entrances. The tiers of cells are not flat, 
but shaped like inverted bowls; the dishes 
grow broader and flatter towards the bottom of 
the nest. 

The other branch of the Wasp family in- 
cludes the Mud-diggers, or Dirt-daubers. Up 
in the attic of any old house in our country, 
east or west, the children will often find, stuck 
on the walls and rafters, lumps of mud of vari- 
ous sizes and shapes. Some are as thick as 
one's finger, others as large as one's fist. If 
one of these shapeless lumps be opened 
carefully, it will be found to be a mass of 
cells, each lined with a thin coat of brittle, 
shelly substance. The builders of these cells 
are commonly called mud Wasps. When 
one of these masons has chosen a place, and 
has begun to work, she brings in her jaws a 
lump of soft mud. It is not certain where she 
got it — whether she gathered some dust and 
moistened it with the liquid of her mouth, or, 



I36 ABOUT WASPS. 

as some think, she gathered it where the earth 
is softened by the wash of the sink. At any 
rate, she has kneaded it perfectly, and she 
spreads it as easily as the mason lays his mor- 
tar. 

Mr. Gosse watched a Dauber, and tells some 
curious things about her. The first cell was 
nearly done; the Wasp had just closed the 
mouth. While gone for more, a pin was thrust 
through the mud into the cell. When the 
Wasp came, she laid her mortar over the hole, 
spreading it very skillfully and evenly. When 
gone again, the pin made another hole, which 
she closed up ; and so for several times. 
Finally Madam Wasp got angry, and began to 
buzz about, trying to catch the house-flies which 
were near. She seemed quite certain that 
they had done the mischief, and waited after 
she had laid more mortar, as if expecting to 
" catch them at it." Then Mr. Gosse broke off 
a large piece of thQ side and bottom, showing 
the grubs, and the small spiders which she had 
tucked in for her children's food. This breach 



A WASP IN TROUBLE. 137 

she repaired as quickly as possible, iu two or 
three loads, laying the mud all round the hole, 
and closing up at the middle. 

Presently she began to build another cell, 
and again she found trouble. A tin-tack was 
placed in the mud, just where she would lay 
the next load. When she came back, she 
seemed quite " bothered ;" she rau back and 
forth over the cells for some time, with the 
mud in her jaws, at a loss what to do. A 
hole she could stop up, but here was some- 
thing in the way. If she should lay the 
mortar in its place, the tack would be more 
firmly fixed. If she should place it else- 
where, it would be wasted, or might do harm; 
if she w^ould try to remove the evil, she must 
lay down her burden. At length she seized 
the tin-tack in her jaws and pulled it out, drop- 
ping the mud as she did it. Next time she 
went away, a bit of worsted was pressed into 
the mud, which made still more serious trou- 
ble, as the bit which she could seize would 
yield without coming away. Still, by taking 



I38 ABOUT WASPS. 

hold of the different parts, one after another, 
and tugging at them a long time, and by walk- 
ing round and round with it in her mouth, she 
at length pulled it out. 

The Dauber Wasp builds the walls of the 
cell, and lays an egg. Then she finds some 
spiders of a beautiful green species, and puts 
them in, bringing them very carefully in her 
jaws and feet. These she walls up with the 
egg, and the grub, when hatched, eats up the 
soft parts of the abdomen. 

When autumn comes, the Wasps seek for 
hiding places in the crevices of houses, where 
they may pass the torpid months. Sometimes 
they crawl away where their presence is not 
desired — into clothing, and between sheets. 
An acquaintance had a beautiful black pointer 
dog, named Don. Don had a great dislike for 
black Wasps, and when they began to creep 
about, looking for their hiding places, he killed 
very many of them. He would draw back his 
lips from his teeth, so that they might not sting 
him, and then snap them in his teeth, throwing 



YELLOW WASPS, 1 39 

them quickly on the floor. If the Wasp writhed 
or crawled, another and another snap was sure 
to follow, until the crushed insect showed no 
more signs of life. 

A large and fierce variety of Wasps is called 
the Hornet. Its sting is very venomous, and 
its temper none of the best. It will follow a 
person, single handed, with great perseverance, 
when its wrath has been provoked. 

Another very tetchy and hot tempered little 
thing, is a smaller variety, known to school 
boys as Yellow Wasps. They are usually quiet 
enough when undisturbed, but woe to the fool- 
ish boy who throws a stone, or thrusts a 
stick into their paper house. The angry swarm 
issues forth; they buzz about the ruined nest 
for a moment, and then, discovering the author 
of the mischief, they fly in solid column to 
avenge the wrong. If the unlucky urchin has 
not speedily taken himself far away, he will 
have good cause to repent an injury to a quiet 
and unoffending, if not inoffensive, community. 
These fellows do not give any warning, like the 



^4° ABOUT WASPS. 

honey bee, but true as an arrow to the mark, 
they go straight at you, and ear, eye, cheek, lip 
— the part hit, suffers. The best course for 
the boy is to pocket the affront, and put some 
aqua ammonia, also called spirits of hartshorn, 
on the wound. Better still, let the Wasps alone 
in the outset. If it is necessary to remove 
them, put a wisp of straw on the end of a pole, 
and burn them out at nightfall. If it is desired 
to remove a nest with the inhabitants, for 
study, the Wasps may be quieted with chloro- 
form, applied at the bottom of the nest, by a 
bunch of cotton. 



\ 




THE MIGRATORY LOCUST, 




GRASSHOPPER LAYING EGGS. 



About Locusts. 



Articulata — Insbcta. 

Order — OrtTwptera. Straight-winged. 

Family — Loeustidce. Locust-like. 




►OCUSTS and Grasshoppers belong 
to the same order, and few but 
naturalists know the differences 
between them, or are able to dis- 
tinguish the species of either. 
They have the same general 
shape — a long body, stiff, folded, 
fan-like wings, under straight, 
hard wing-covers, a head not unlike that of a 
horse, and long legs, the last pair having long 
and very strong thighs, with which they leap 
very far. The Arabs say that the Locust was 



144 ABOUT LOCUSTS. 

made of scraps of all animals. That it has the 
head of the horse, the horns of the stag, the 
eye of the elephant, the neck of the ox, the 
breast of the lion, the body of the scorpion, the 
hip of the camel, the legs of the stork, the 
wings of the eagle, and the tail of the dragon. 
The wings of some are spotted, and the spots 
have been supposed to foretell future events. 

Locusts have been counted among the most 
fearful plagues which have ever punished a 
nation. In Eastern lands they have appeared 
in astonishing numbers; their swarms have 
darkened the sun ; they have eaten every green 
thing, leaving the land behind them black as if 
burned with fire. They are not even content 
with that which is green, but devour every 
thing which can be devoured — linen, woolen, 
silk, leather, the very varnish of the furniture. 

In 1748 the locusts appeared early in June 
in Hungary, on the Danube. In July they 
were terribly destructive throughout Poland, 
and at the middle of August they appeared in 
clouds in London. In one night they ate the 



DESCRIBED BY THE PROPHET. H5 

grass and the foliage of trees about Vienna, 
making the forests bare as brooms. In Poland 
they covered the country for miles, and were 
heaped up a foot thick; when they alighted 
they covered the ground like falling snow. At 
Warsaw soldiers were sent out against them 
with cannon. The firing of great guns scat- 
tered them and drove them away. In Italy 
the government offered rewards for them, and 
12,000 sackfuls were gathered, cast into pits, 
and covered with quicklime. 

The prophet Joel gives a description of their 
coming, both sublime and accurate : " A day 
of darkness and of gloominess, a day of clouds 
and of thick darkness, as the morning opened 
on the mountains ; a great people and a strong. 
A fire devoureth before them, and behind them 
a flame burneth. The land is as a garden of 
Eden before them, and behind them a desolate 
wilderness; yea, and nothing shall escape them. 
The appearance of them is as the appearance 
of horses, and as horsemen shall they run. 
Like the noise of chariots on the tops of moun- 

21 



146 ABOUT LOCUSTS, 

tain -hall they leap; like the noise of a 

flame of fire that devoureth the stubble, as a 
strong people set in battle array. They shall 
run like mighty men ; they shall climb the wall 
like men of war. And they shall march every 
one his ways, and they shall not break his 
ranks: neither shall one thrust another. They 
shall walk every one in his path, and when 
they fail upon the sword they shall not be 
wounded. They shall run to and fro in the 
city. They shall run upon the wall. They 
shall climb up upon the houses. They shall 
enter in at the windows like a thief. The earth 
shall quake before them; the heaven shall 
tremble; the sun and moon shall be dark, and 
the stars shall withdraw their shining." 

The prophet also mentions the usual way in 
which the locusts are destroyed: i; I will re- 
move far off from you the northern army, and 
will drive him into a land barren and desolate, 
with his face toward the east sea, and his 
hinder part towards the utmost sea, and his 
stink shall come up because he hath done great 



BEAUTY FOLLOWS DESTRUCTION. H7 

things." This prophecy may refer to the com- 
ing of an army of human beings, but the 
description literally applies to the march of 
these insects as described by historians. Mr. 
Barron says that in 1784, and in 1797, two 
thousand miles in South Africa were covered 
with Locusts, which, being borne into the sea by 
a northwest wind, formed, for fifty miles along 
the shore, a bank three or four feet high ; and 
when the wind was in the opposite point, the 
horrible odor from them was perceptible a hun- 
dred and fifty miles away. 

Most scourges bring in their train benefits 
which fully repay, if they do not many fold sur- 
pass, the injury inflicted. The prairies rejoice 
in a greener verdure after the fire has con- 
sumed the withered grass. So a land which 
has been choked with rank shrubs and with- 
ered bitter grasses, after it has been swept by 
the Locusts, soon wears a more beautiful dress, 
with new herbs, superb lilies, fresh annual 
grasses, and young and juicy shrubs, which 
afford sweet pasture for wild cattle and game. 



I48 ABOUT LOCUSTS. 

Locusts are eaten by all sorts of quadrupeds, 
by many birds, large and small, and even by 
man. In the countries which they ravage, the 
people have nothing else left to eat, and learn- 
ing from necessity, they continue to eat Locusts 
from choice. The Arabs boil them and dry 
them in the sun. Others soak them in oil. 
In other places they are gathered in heaps 
and salted. The wings are taken off, and 
the bodies eaten as meat, or they are 
dried, grouud, and made into bread. They 
have even been exported, and armies have been 
relieved by them. The African Bushman 
delights in a swarm of Locusts, as his choicest 
game, furnishing plenty of food without having 
to work for it. He makes large fires, and the 
Locusts, flying through the flame, have their 
wings scorched, fall into the fire, are roasted 
and eaten. Those that remain are ground 
between stones, and kept for another meal. 
Europeans dislike them, but the fault is proba- 
bly in the cooking; Dr. Livingstone thinks 
them very good eating when well prepared. 



THE YOUNG LOCUST. 149 

Honey is eaten with them, when it can be had, 
as it assists digestion. 

Does this remind us of John the Baptist, 
whose "meat was locusts and wild honey." 
It has been questioned whether the quails 
which the strong east wind blew together for 
the Israelites in the desert, were not truly 
Locusts; there is doubt whether the word 
translated quail had ever that meaning. The 
Jews ate Locusts, and distinguished between 
such as were clean or unclean. 

The young Locusts do not pass through the 
several changes which most insects undergo. 
The bee, for example, is first a grub, then a 
chrysalis, then a perfect, winged bee. The 
Locust comes from the egg a Locust, but wants 
wings, which come gradually. The eggs are 
laid in the ground. The female pierces the 
ground with a long, two bladed, hollow instru- 
ment. When it is forced into the soil, the 
blades open a little, and press the earth aside, 
while a dozen eggs are passed into the cavity 
then formed. The contrivance is not unlike a 



15° ABOUT LOCUSTS. 

corn-planter, which makes a hole, drops the 
corn, and covers it, all at once. The Locust 
goes about thus, planting her eggs, until she has 
deposited several hundred. They remain during 
the winter, and until the warm sun next sum- 
mer hatches them, bringing out little creatures 
as large as gnats. These stay a while in the 
nest, and in the ground near by, and then come 
forth, hopping about without wings. As they 
grow they shed their skins, each time appearing 
m a new, larger, and more perfect dress. By 
the third or fourth change, wings begin to 
appear, and by the sixth they are full fledged. 
The common Grasshoppers make their entire 
growth in one season, but the terrible migra- 
tory Locust, which has been mentioned above, 
is said to live in the ground two years, and 
come forth in the third. 

It is often a matter of surprise that insects 
like the Locusts, the chinch-bugs, and others, 
should not be observed for many years, and 
then should appear in swarms of such immense 
numbers, and do such terrible mischief. Many 



THEIR PRODUCTIVENESS. 15 1 

attempt to account for this by supposing thai 
the ground has some hidden power of sponta- 
neous production, which is thus fitfully exerted 
It is probably the fact that these insects nevei 
entirely disappear ; that no season passes with- 
out producing enough to keep up the succes- 
sion. They are exceedingly productive, so that 
a few may be the parents of a multitude. But 
the dangers which surround the eggs and the 
young, eaten as they are by every kind of bird 
and insect, and destroyed by myriads by unsea- 
sonable cold and rain, sweep them away, and 
leave only a remnant for seed. If only one in 
a thousand escapes, that one will reproduce a 
thousand. Thus* if two favorable seasons fol- 
low in succession, the scourge appears, and the 
crops suffer. 

In the south of Europe rewards are regu- 
larly paid for the collection of Locusts and of 
Locusts' eggs. The city of Marseilles expended 
20,000 francs for that purpose, in one year. A 
franc is paid for about two pounds and a quar- 
ter of eggs. In Italy large quantities have been 



IS 2 ABOUT LOCUSTS. 

gathered and thrown into the streams. There 
is a slight difference in the piercer of the Locust 
and of the Grasshopper, bat the method of 
placing the eggs in the ground is essentially the 
same. 

One of the most noted among the Grasshop- 
pers is the Katy-did. This insect is of a pale 
green color; its head seems to have been 
squarely chopped off; its wing-covers are 
rounded, and enclose the wings and body like 
the sides of a pea-pod. It lives in the branches 
of trees, and does not lay its eggs in the ground, 
but deposits them upon the twigs and branches 
in regular rows. The song of the Katy-did is 
one of the cheerful sounds of autumn, save that 
from constant repetition it becomes tiresome. 
It is not truly a song, for it is not made by the 
mouth. 

" The musical organs of the male consist of a 
pair of taborets. They are formed by a thin, 
transparent membrane stretched in a strong, 
half-oval frame in the triangular overlapping 
part of .each wing cover. During the day they 



THE KATY-DID. 153 

are silent, but at night the males begin the joy- 
ous call by which they enliven their silent 
mates. This proceeds from the rubbing of the 
taboret frames against each other when the 
wing covers are opened and shut ; and the 
notes are repeated for hours together. The 
sound may be heard in the stillness of the night 
to the distance of a quarter of a mile. At the 
approach of twilight the Katy-did mounts to 
the upper branches of the tree in which he 
lives, and, as soon as the evening shades pre- 
vail, begins his noisy babble, while rival notes 
issue from the neighboring trees, and the groves 
resound with the calls ' Eaty-did-she-did, she- 
didn't, she-did/ the livelong night." 



154 THE HUNTER FAY. 

He put his acorn helmet on ; 

It was plumed of the silk of the thistle-down ; 

The corslet plate that guarded his breast, 

Was once the wild bee's golden vest ; 

His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes, 

Was formed of the wings of butterflies ; 

His shield was the shell of a lady-bug queen, 

Studs of gold on a ground of green ; 

And the quivering lance which he brandished bright, 

Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight. 

Swift he bestrode his fire-fly steed ; 

He bared his blade of the bent-grass blue; 
He drove his spurs of the cockle seed, 

And away like a glance of thought he flew. 

The moth-fly, as he shot in air, 

Crept under the leaf, and hid her there ; 

The katy-did forgot its lay ; 

The prowling gnat fled fast away ; 

The fell mosquito checked his drone, 

And folded his wings till the fay was gone; 

And the wily beetle dropped his head, 

And fell on the ground as if he were dead. 

They watched till they saw him mount the roof 

That canopies the world around ; 
Then glad they left their covert lair, 
And freaked about in the midnight air. 

The Culprit Fay. 




TRANSFORMATIONS OF THE MOSQUITO. 



About Mosquitoes. 



ARTICUL ATA — INSECTA. 

Order — Diptera. Two-winged. 
Family — GvMcidaz. Culex, A gnat. 




^HE Mosquito is a nuisance. He 
sings and then he bites ; and his 
singing is usually notice that he 
intends to bite. He comes in the 
night, when the faint and sultry- 
air persuades the sleeper to throw- 
off the protecting cover, and sleep 
flies before him. If one seeks a 
shelter from the glaring sun, under the shade 
by the brook-side, myriads of these gauze- 
winged musicians warn him away from their 
realm. The wild forest is full of them. The 



158 ABOUT MOSQUITOES. 

heavy timber, from June to September, is utterly 
uninhabitable, unless constant war is made 
against the Mosquitoes. Every bit of standing 
water, and every purling rill, teems with them. 
The trees and bushes every where shelter them. 
Shake a bough, and a swarm rises from it; 
land from a boat, and a cloud tender a too cor- 
dial reception. They gather like hungry poli- 
ticians about the dispenser of official favors. 

Nothing but thick leather and woolen will pro- 
tect your ancles or your wrists. You can save 
your face in only one way. Wear a soft hat that 
you can sleep in ; get a yard of black lace, sew 
the ends together, and draw round the crown of 
your hat one end of the bag which you make, 
while you gather the other end under your chin. 
The brim of the hat will keep the veil from the 
face, and the disappointed Mosquitoes will rave 
in vain against the outside. In a few moments 
one becomes so accustomed to the veil that it 
does not interfere with sight, although it is in the 
way in eating and drinking. It is no exaggera- 
tion to say, that in the dense forest, in June, 



TORTURE B Y MOSQUITOES. 159 

the Mosquitoes have gathered upon the back of 
a man sitting down to rest, so thickly as to hide 
the color of his coat, whether light or dark, 
with the brown of their wings. 

The Rev. "Walter Colton tells how the miners 
in California made culprits disclose the truth 
by means of Mosquitoes. A rogue had stolen 
a bag of gold and hid it. Neither persuasions 
or threats could make him tell where it was 
concealed. He was sentenced to receive a hun- 
dred lashes, but was told that he would be let off 
with thirty, if he would tell what he had done 
with the gold. He refused. The thirty lashes 
were laid on, but he was as stubborn as a mule. 
He was then stripped, and tied to a tree. The 
Mosquitoes, with their sharp bills, went at him, 
and in less than three hours he was covered 
with blood. Writhing and trembling from 
head to foot, he exclaimed, " Untie me, untie 
me, and I will tell where it is !" " Tell first," 
was the reply. So he told where it might be 
found. Then some of the party, with wisps, 
kept off the hungry Mosquitoes, while others 



i6o 



ABOUT MOSQUITOES. 



went where the culprit directed, and found the 
bag of gold. He was then untied, washed with 
cold water, and helped to his clothes, while he 
muttered, as if talking to himself, " I couldn't 
stand that, anyhow." 

There is no doubt that a man would perish 
in a short time, from loss of blood, and from 
the fever caused by the poison of their bites, 
if exposed, as this man was, with no means of 
defence. 

The largest kind of Mosquito about the Mis- 
sissippi river is called the " Gallinipper." The 
boatmen say that it is as large as a goose, and 
that it carries a brickbat under its wing, on 
which to sharpen its bill. 

Cattle are not troubled by Mosquitoes, but 
horses suffer terribly. The lumbermen drive 
them away from their camps by making low 
fires of chips and damp grass. In the coolness 
of evening, the smoke from these " smudge " 
fires hangs heavily over the ground, and affords 
considerable protection, which even animals 
seek. 



THE LOGGING CAMP. l6l 

On a still niglit such a camp is very pictur- 
esque. The low log hut by the river; the tall, 
sombre pines, towering above dense masses of 
maples, and ragged outlines of oaks ; the strag- 
gling fires, that thrust out tongues of fitful 
flame, and reek with thick smoke, which 
spreads upon the ground, or lazily rolls over 
the roof; the long, level lines of blue haze 
which the smoke finally draws against the foli- 
age of the trees; the solemn stillness resting 
over all, broken only by the hoot of the owl, 
the wail of the whip-poor-will, or the tinkle of 
the rippling stream, while the bright eyed 
climbing stars replace the waning twilight ; 
compose a scene too lovely to be spoiled by 
millions of myriads of swarming, howling, rav- 
ing, hungry Mosquitoes. 

The Mosquito is an insect of the water. 
Early on a summer morning, even before sun- 
rise, the mother may be found laying her eggs. 
They must be placed where there is warmth 
enough to hatch them, and where the young 
creatures which pop out may go at once into 



1 62 ABOUT MOSQUITOES. 

the water. So the careful insect, like the 
mother of Moses, puts her children into a little 
ark, which she leaves on the surface of the pool. 
The ark she makes of the eggs themselves. 
She rests on a bit of grass, or a leaf, at the top 
of the water, holding to it by the first and sec- 
ond pair of legs. The third pair she crosses 
behind her like the letter X. The first egg is 
caught and held between the legs. Then 
another and another are fastened to the first 
by the gum which covers them, until fifteen or 
twenty have been set up side by side, as one 
might set up a number of ears of corn, or like 
the seeds in the head of a sunflower. 

When the mass becomes too heavy for her 
to support, she lowers it upon the water, but 
still holds it by putting her feet on either side, 
until two hundred and fifty or three hundred 
eggs have been laid. Those at the sides are 
higher than those in the middle, while those at 
the ends are raised somewhat more. Thus the 
whole mass is shaped much like a canoe. 
These tiny black boats, about as large as grains 



WRIGGLERS. 1 63 

of wheat, may be found floating upon the top 
of any tub, or barrel of water, which has stood 
for some days. Nothing can harm them, if 
some other creature does not eat them up. 
The storm may dash them against the shore, 
but they are too light to break ; a torrent of 
water may be poured upon them, and they 
come out of the bubbling foam as buoyant as 
air, and as dry as a duck ; the water may freeze 
solid, but their life is not destroyed. 

In a few days — three are usually enough, if 
warm — the eggs hatch, and each sends a wrig- 
gler down into the water, through a hole in the 
bottom. The little fellow swims about, and 
presently hangs himself by his tail to the sur- 
face. If disturbed, he goes down out of the 
way, but soon comes back, and rests, as before, 
with the tip of his tail out of water. He does 
this, just as other swimmers do, because he 
would keep his nose above water. The odd 
thing about it is^ that his nose, or, at least, the 
tube which he breathes through, is not on his 

face, but at the tip of his tail. It ends in a few 

2K 



164 ABOUT MOSQUITOES. 

hairs, which spread in a star-form, and are 
oiled, to repel the water. Thus the tail is both 
nose to breathe through, and buoy to keep 
itself at the top of the water. He lives upon 
the impurities in the water, and so serves a 
very useful purpose in the world. 

.By and by, he changes into a pupa, and then 
he turns himself over, end for end. He did 
breathe through his tail; now he breathes 
through his ears, or a pair of tubes which look 
like ears, and are thrust up, just a little, out of 
the water. His tail is now like the tail of a 
fish, and by it he can move himself through the 
water as he pleases. He remains thus about 
fifteen days, and then takes a new form, 
exchanging his home in the water for a life in 
the air. 

"When the warm sun shines on the. water, the 
change comes. The pupa rises to the surface, 
and thrusts out his head and shoulders. The 
cover bursts, and the plumed head appears, fol- 
lowed by the shoulders, and the filmy wings. 
Now is the time of danger. If an unlucky puff 



HOW SHE STWGS. 1 65' 

of air sweep the water, over goes our sailor, his 
wings are wet, and his voyage lost, just as he is 
ready to come into port. His old garment lies 
upon the water. It is his life-boat. His body 
is the mast, and his drying wings are the sails. 
Now his slender legs are dry, and with them he 
feels for the surface of the pool. He lifts him- 
self free from his cast-off coat, rests an instant 
on the water, and then leaps into the air, a sing- 
ing, stinging Mosquito. 

But all the Mosquitoes do not sting. The 
males wear a pair of plumes upon their heads, 
and spend their days in a ceaseless dance in 
the sunbeams. Those that bite are the females. 
One gently drops on your neck or hand, with 
footstep so light that you feel it not ; she looks 
about for a moment, hesitating as to where she 
will begin to bore. Now she has found the 
place, and her needle tongue goes down into 
the skin. Now you feel the prick, and now 
you may see her chest heave as she pumps up 
the red fluid. No speculator, boring for oil, 
ever felt happier over a flowing well, than our 



l66 ABOUT MOSQUITOES. 

borer over the flowing fountain which she has 
tapped. Now her abdomen expands, more and 
more, until it seems that she will burst. At 
last she has enough — too much, in fact, for 
her greed will cost her life. She draws up the 
rod, and heavily flies away. Her light wings 
can scarcely bear the increased burden. She 
will die of surfeit. 



TO A MOSQUITO. 

Fair insect ! that, with thread-like legs spread out, 
And blood-extracting bill and filmy wing, 

Dost murmur, as thou slowly sail'st about, 
In pitiless ears full many a plaintire thing, 

And tell how little our large veins should bleed, 

Would we but yield them to thy bitter need. 

Unwillingly, I own, and, what is worse, 
Full angrily men hearken to thy plaint; 

Thou gettest many a brush and many a curse, 

For saying thou art gaunt, and starved, and faint: 

Even the old beggar, while he asks for food, 

Would kill thee, helpless stranger, if he could. 



BR T ANTS MOSQUITO. 1 67 

Beneath the rushes was thy cradle swung, 

And when, at length, thy gauzy wings grew strong, 

Abroad to gentle airs their folds were flung, 
Rose in the sky and bore thee soft along; 

The south wind breathed to waft thee on thy way, 

And danced and shone beneath the billowy bay. 

Calm rose the city spires, and thence 
Came the deep murmur of its throng of men, 

And as its grateful odors met thy sense, 
They seemed the perfume of thy native fen. 

Fair lay its crowded streets, and at the sight 
Thy tiny song grew shriller with delight 

At length thy pinions fluttered in Broadway — 
Ah, there were fairy steps, and white necks kissed 

By wanton airs, and eyes whose killing ray 

Shone through the snowy veils, like stars thro' mist; 

And fresh as morn, on many a cheek and chin, 

Bloom'd the bright blood thro' the transparent skin. 

Sure these were sights to touch an anchorite ! 

What! do I hear thy slender voice complain? 
Thou wailest, when I talk of Beauty's light, 

As if it brought the memory of pain. 
Thou art a wayward being — well — come near, 
And pour thy tale of sorrow in mine ear. 



i68 



ABOUT MOSQUITOES. 



What says't thou — slanderer! rouge makes thee sick? 

And China bloom, at best, is sorry food ? 
And Rowland's Kalydor, if laid on thick, 

Poisons the thirsty wretch who bores for blood ? 
Go ! 'twas a just reward that met thy crime — 
But shun the sacrilege another time. 

That bloom was made to look at, not to touch ; 

To worship, not approach, that radiant white ; 
And well might sudden vengeance light on such 

As dared, like thee, most impiously, to bite. 
Thou should'st have gazed at distance, and admired, 
Murmured thy adoration, and retired. 

Bryant. 




o 



< 

o 

m 



i pi 






About E 



BOUT pEETLES, 



Articulata. — Inskcta. 

Order — Coleoptera. Sheath-winged. 




'NIGHTLY armor of proof pro- 
tects the Beetle. First, there 
is the strong helmet, with shut 
visor, and crest of varied de- 
vice. Then comes the solid 
cuirass, which protects the 
body, and below that the full- 
orbed, or oval shield, which 
covers the abdomen, and the upper joints of the 
legs. He carries neither sword nor lance, mace 
nor battle axe, but from the joints of his visor 
project two ponderous jaws, which grip like a 
vice. He is horse and horseman in one. His 



I7 2 ABOUT BEETLES. 

thick shield parts in the middle, and when the 
two leaves swing apart, they disclose a pair of 
light, gauzy wings, which, with a great deal of 
fussy buzzing, lift him from the ground and 
carry him away, when he, 

"Drowsy beetle, wheels his droning flight." 

The plates of his coat of mail fit each other 
very exactly. The helmet makes the neatest 
joint with the corselet, and. the corselet with 
the shield. The wearer can move every part 
with perfect freedom, and yet each joint is 
closed against prick of arrow or thrii3t of spear. 
Yet the Beetle is not the swift horseman of 
to-da} r , but resembles more the heavy man-at- 
arms of three hundred years ago. When he 
was pushed off his horse in sham or real fight, 
and lay sprawling on his back, boxed up in his 
heavy plate armor, be needed a stout esquire to 
set him on his pins again. Just so, if a bum- 
ming beetle be knocked on the floor ; it takes 
him a long while to overcome his astonishment, 






THEIR ARMOR. 1 7 3 

and make ready again for a tilt at the lamp, or 
at your face. 

Our knight has little of the swift dash of the 
wasp, who pricks with his sharp lance, and 
then rings his shrill defiance. He has none of 
the stealthy adroitness of the spider, who lassos 
his victim, like a Mexican, and then stabs him 
in the back, as coolly as an Italian bravo. 
Indeed, he does very little at offensive warfare. 
If you are in his w^ay, he gives you a sharp 
pinch, or whacks you in the face, but that is all. 
His heavy mail serves mostly to ward off the 
ass-aults of others. 

The style and the ornaments of his armor 
are very various, and often are very beau- 
tiful. Sometimes the whole suit is plain 
black, or dark brown. Sometimes it gleams 
with brilliant hues of green, crimson, pur- 
ple, and gold, or blazes with precious gems, 
set in polished metal. In any case, he keeps 
his armor scrupulously clean, no matter how 
filthy the work which he is busied about. 

The order contains over one hundred thou- 



174 ABOUT BEETLES. 

sand kinds, divided into various families. We 
must be content with noticing a few of the most 
remarkable. Some of them do great injury to 
vegetation, either while grubs, as the borers in 
trees, or the young of the cock-chaffer, which 
eat the roots of grass; or while fully developed 
beetles, as the curculio, which kills the plums, 
the striped cucumber-bug, the rose-chaffer, and 
many others. Other kinds confer decided ben- 
efits. The Water Rovers, the Skin Beetles, 
Carrion Beetles, and Dung Beetles, are scaven- 
gers, disposing of the filth in which they- and 
their young live. The Tiger Beetles, Lady- 
birds, and Diving Beetles, prey upon caterpil- 
lars, and plant lice. The Stag Beetles, Bark 
Beetles, and others, help destroy old trees 
which are going to decay. The Blister Beetles, 
or Cantharides, are pounded up by the drug- 
gists, and the dust is spread upon plasters, to 
raise blisters when applied to. the skin. 

The first on our list is the Sexton, or Burying 
Beetle. If the body of a dead bird, or mouse, 
or any piece of meat, be left upon a spot of soft 



THE BURYING-BEETLE. 175 

earth, it will often be found, on the next morn- 
ing, half sunk in the soil. Take up the bird, 
and you will find under it one or two beetles, 
sometimes entirely black, sometimes barred 
with orange. During the day the insects will 
usually be quiet, but at nightfall they will begin 
work again. The work of burying is done 
almost entirely by the male Beetle, the female 
either hiding in the dead body, or sitting qui- 
etly on it, and being buried with it. The male 
begins by turning a furrow all round the bird, 
about half an inch away. His head is held 
sloping outwards, and like a strong plow, turns 
the earth aside. When the first furrow is 
made, a second is turned within it, the dirt 
being thrown into the first. Then a third is 
made, and this is quite under the bird, so that 
the Beetle is out of sight. The work may be 
traced by the heaving of the earth, which now 
makes a wall, and as it grows higher, the bird 
sinks. After hard work for about three hours, 
the Beetle comes forth, and crawls apo^ the 
body, to see how he succeeds. Ho xvsm Hk>F 



176 ABOUT BEETLES. 

an hour, goes down again, dives into the grave, 
and pulls the bird down by the feathers. He 
works two or three hours more, plowing and 
pulling ; then comes up, takes another survey, 
and drops down, as if suddenly fallen asleep. 
"When he is rested, he pulls the bird about, this 
way and that, tramples it down, and settles it 
to his mind. Then he goes behind the rampart 
of earth, and plows it back into the grave, with 
great skill and strength. He bends his head 
down first, and then turns up his nose with a 
jerk which throws the earth forward. When 
the grave is filled, and carefully examined, no 
feather being left in sight, he digs a hole in the 
loose earth, and having already buried the bird 
and the female, next buries himself. The 
female lays her eggs, the pair take a full meal 
of the carcass, then dig their way out, and fly 
away. 

If the creature is no bigger than a mouse, a 
single day will be long enough to bury it in. 
One buried a mole, forty times as large as itself, 
in two da} s. A French naturalist placed two 



THE DOR BEETLE, 177 

pairs of these Beetles under a glass case, and 
furnished them with dead bodies. In fifty days 
they had buried four frogs, three small birds, 
two fishes, one mole, two grasshoppers, and 
three bits of flesh. All this work is done to 
secure a nest and food for the young, and to 
protect it from other creatures, as the fox, or 
the raven, which might devour flesh and young 
Beetles together. 

The work is done very much as men sink 
wells in sandy ground. They sometimes lay 
down on the earth a ring of plank, as large as 
the well is to be. Then they build a circular 
wall of brick and mortar upon the ring. The 
sand is taken out from under the plank, asid 
the whole wall sinks slowly down. So the well 
is dug as deep as may be necessary, while the 
wall is built up at the top, as fast as it settles 
into the ground. 

Another burying Beetle is the Dor Beetle, 
called, in this country, Tumble-bug. This is 
akin to the sacred beetle of ancient Egypt, or. 
the Scarabaeus. Its image was engraved on 



I 7 3 AB O UT BEE TLES. 

rings, which soldiers wore to show that they 
were warriors. On temples or columns it was 
a symbol of Divine wisdom, which regulates the 
universe, teaches mankind, and is self-existent. 
In its singular habit of rolling about pellets of 
dung the Egyptian astrologers thought it rep- 
resented the revolutions of the sun, moon, and 
stars. 

"When this insect finds a patch of cow-dung, 
she sets herself at work. First she digs a deep 
hole, smooth and round. Then she cuts off a por- 
tion of the patch, lays an egg in it, and rolls it 
about into a rude ball. Xow she rests her fore 
feet upon the ground, and with her hind feet 
rolls the ball hither and thither, until the outside 
has gathered in the dust and sand, a thin, hard 
crust or shell. Then, always pushing back- 
wards, she rolls it to the hole, tumbles it in, 
and covers it with earth. The e^ is soon 
hatched, the grub feeds on the substance which 
surrounds it, changes to a chrysalis, and remains 
in the shell, which still serves to protect it, 
until it is ready to come forth, a perfect Beetle, 



THE GOLIATH. 179 

qualified to roll pills on its own account. The 
smooth surface of this beetle, which gleams like 
polished steel, retains no trace of its work. 
Not a spot or a stain defiles it, nor does any 
odor betray its occupation. 

Some of these rolled cocoons are very large. 
A specimen in the British Museum, made bv 
the Goliath, is as large as a swan's egg. The 
walls are quite thin, and are strengthened by a 
belt about the middle. The insect which grew 
in it is still inside, and may be seen through an 
opening at one end. Its plates of mail are rich, 
velvety chocolate, edged with broad bands of 
white. This species, the largest now known, 
has a body about four inches long and two 
inches broad ; when walking, it covers a space 
of nearly six inches. 

An interesting family of Beetles includes the 
Dors, May-bugs, Cock-chafers, and Rose-bugs. 
They are very common and well known, both 
as Beetles and as grubs. The perfect insect 
does not live more than a week, and the species 
is not seen more than four or six weeks in a 



1 80 ABOUT BEETLES. 

season. The females burrow in the ground 
about six inches, to lay their eggs — some say, 
as many as two hundred. In about fourteen 
days the eggs are hatched, and produce white 
grubs, each having six legs near the head, and 
a pair of strong jaws. Their skins are white, 
and partly transparent. "When thrown out by 
the plow or spade, they are found coiled like a 
ring, or a horse-shoe. A full grown grub is 
n.early as large as one's little finger • — a plump, 
fat morsel, very eagerly swallowed by crows and 
chickens. 

They do much mischief, eating the tender 
roots of grass, grain, herbs, and trees. When 
very numerous, they have so cut off the roots 
of grass, that the turf could be rolled up in 
many places like a carpet. As winter comes, 
they descend below the reach of frost, and lie 
torpid until spring ; then they change their 
skins, and go back to the surface. At the end 
of the third summer — some say the fifth — 
they go down about two feet, and each one, by 
moving from side to side, forms a hollow oval 



THE MA T-BUG. 1 8 1 

space, about the size of a pigeon's egg. Here 
it casts its skin, and becomes a pupa, whose 
clear salmon-colored skin shows under it the 
head, eyes, jaws, wings, legs — all the parts of 
the perfect beetle. In February this skin 
bursts, and the insect is ready to dig its way 
out when the first warm week of May has 
clothed the trees with leaves. In digging out 
decayed stumps of trees, fine opportunities may 
be had for observing these grubs in every stage 
of their lives. 

The winged beetles do as much harm by eat- 
ing the leaves of trees, as the grubs did by 
devouring the roots. During the day they 
remain on the branches, hidden under the 
leaves. At nightfall they begin to buzz about, 
humming among the trees until midnight. 
They often come into houses, attracted, and 
blinded, by the light. They dart about with 
very uncertain aim, putting out candles, whack- 
ing unlucky people in the face, and banging 
against trees and walls so hard as to throw them- 
selves stunned upon the ground. Hence come 

2L 



182 



ABOUT BEETLES. 



the sayings " blind as a beetle," and " beetle- 
headed." When very plenty, the attempt has 
been made to check their ravages by shaking 
them from the trees upon cloths spread under- 
neath. Thev are then thrown into boiling 
water, and fed to fowls or hogs. In this way 
they have been gathered by pailfuls, and in a 
few days no more could be found. Many years 
ago these beetles were so plenty in Norwich, 

England, that a farmer and his men claimed 

• 

to have gathered eisrhtv bushels of them : and 
they and their grubs had done so much harm, 
that the city gave the farmer twenty-five pounds 
for relief. 

The Eose-chafer, like the May-bug, does 
much harm in gardens and nurseries. It is 
about one third of an inch long, covered with 
yellowish down. The slender, red legs end in 
long feet. They come forth about the second 
week in June, and remain about a month. The 
eggs are hatched in the ground, and the grubs 
feed upon roots until autumn, when they 
descend below the frost. In the spring they 



STAG-BEETLES. 1 83 

come up again. In May they pass the first 
change, and in June come forth fledged Rose- 
bugs. They can be destroyed only by crush- 
ing, burning, or throwing into scalding water. 
They eat the leaves not only of rose bushes, but 
also of fruit trees. 

Certain Beetles called Stag Beetles, and 
Horn-bugs, from their jaws, which resemble 
the horns of oxen or deer, belong to the family 
Lucanidm. They fly by night, and often the 
lights attract them into houses, to the great 
alarm of the people within; but they are quite 
harmless, and will not even pinch, unless pro- 
voked. Their grubs resemble those of the 
Scarabs, and live in the trunks and roots of 
trees. When full grown, they make cocoons 
of bits of wood and bark, glued together, and 
wait the changes which make Horn-bugs of 
them. 

The grubs of the Buprestidce are the borers 
so destructive to fruit and forest trees. They 
are long, narrow, and flat, with large, hard 
heads and jaws. They have no legs, but 



'84 ABOUT BEETLES. 

move by twisting from side to side, and by 
pulling with their jaws. They may be 
destroyed by thrusting a wire after them, into 
the hole which they are making — if it can be 
found. The crushed grub will come out on the 
point of the wire, to prove the success of the 
experiment Possibly, however, woodpeckers 
would be more expert at this kind of thing than 
men. 

Another family that are great pests are the 
Curculios. These spoil the fruit, attacking 
plums, apricots, and cherries, and not sparing 
apples, pears, and peaches. As soon as the 
fruit is set in the spring, these little insects 
begin their work, and they keep at work, until 
July or August. The Beetle cuts with its snout 
a little curve in the skin of the plum, then 
turns round and lays an egg in the wound. A 
maggot hatches, which eats its way into the 
fruit, even to the stone; this causes the plum 
to become diseased, and to fall off before it is 
ripe. When the plum is partly grown, the 
curved scar may be easily found. All such, 



THE T A TTA CK PINES. 1 85 

with all that fall upon the ground, should be 
gathered and destroyed, to prevent the maggots 
from going into the ground to pass the changes, 
and coming out afterwards to keep up the 
evil. 

Others of this family attack the pines. Wil- 
son says : " Would it be believed that the larvae 
of a fly no bigger than a grain of rice, should 
silently, and in one season, destroy some thou- 
sands of acres of pine trees, many of them two 
and three feet in diameter, and a hundred and 
fifty feet high ! In some places the whole 
woods, as far as you can see around you, are 
dead, stripped of their bark, their wintry arms 
and bare trunks bleaching in the sun, and tum- 
bling in ruins before every blast." Besides 
boring into the trunks, these insects often 
destroy the top shoot of the tree, on which 
its straight and lofty growth depends. Mr. 
Wilson suggests that until farmers can devise 
some better plan of killing these pests, they 
had better thank and protect the woodpecker. 

Another rascal of this tribe is the wheat- 



i86 



ABOUT BEETLES. 



weevil. Several insects are known by this 
name, but the one meant is a slender Beetle, 
about one eighth of an inch long, and of a 
pitchy-red color. It lays eggs upon the har- 
vested wheat, and the grubs burrow into the 
grain, each one taking possession of a single 
kernel. The worm eats the 'substance, but 
leaves the shell, so that the only evidence of 
harm is the lightness of the grain. They may 
be destroyed by drying the wheat in kilns. 

After the peas have blossomed, and while 
they are just beginning to swell in the tender 
pods, the Pea-beetles gather by night, or in 
cloudy weather, and lay their tiny eggs in 
minute holes which they pierce in the surface 
of the pods. The maggots, as soon as hatched, 
bury themselves in the peas, and the small 
holes are soon closed. Often every pea in a 
pod contains a grub. They remain in the peas 
after they ripen, and come out in the spring, 
perfect bugs, ready to carry on the work. 
Those who plant "buggy" peas will find the 
bugs are quite as sure to come up, and bear 



THE YELLOW STRIPED BUG. 1 87 

fruit, as the peas. The crow-blackbird is fond 
of the bugs, and the Baltimore oriole, or hang 
bird, splits open the pods to get the grubs in 
the green peas. Don't disturb him, for be sure 
if he wants the peas, you don't. 

Another nuisance in the garden is the yellow 
striped bug, which destroys the young cucum- 
ber and melon plants. It comes as soon as the 
young vines come, and it stays all summer. 
Great numbers visit the flowers of the squashes 
and pumpkins for the pollen. The eggs are 
laid, and the grubs grow, in the ground. Those 
Dugs which have their heads pinched off will 
be sure to do no further harm. Various devi- 
ces have been employed against them, such as 
sifting soot, snuff, sulphur, ashes, or plaster of 
Paris, on the vines; sprinkling them with 
steeping of tobacco, red pepper, walnut leaves, 
or hops; burning fires of pine knots or bits of 
tar barrels at night, but none are sure. The 
best preservative is a frame of board, covered 
with millinet, to place over each hill of vines. 
If the plants can be protected for a little time, 



i88 



ABOUT BEETLES. 



they will grow fast enough to escape further 
harm. 

But my readers will begin to believe that all 
the Beetles are nuisances, and will be led to 
make war upon every insect which wears a 
hard shell. Let us find some for which some- 
thing may be said on the credit side of the 
account. 

While writing about ants, we mentioned 
those destructive little insects, which the ants 
use like herds of cattle, the plant-lice, or Aphi- 
des. The ants only milk their cows, but the 
grubs of a Beetle eat them up. These grubs 
become the pretty insects which people com- 
monly call Lady-birds; naturalists call them 
Cbccinellidce. They have the size and shape of 
half a pea. Some are black, spotted with red ; 
others, red with black, yellow with black, or 
yellow with white spots. The eggs are laid 
among the lice, and the grubs at once go to 
work catching and eating prey as large as them- 
selves, without ever seeming to be satisfied. 

This insect has always been a favorite. The 



LADY BIRDS. 1 89 

German children think it brings fair weather, 
and the English boys and girls are afraid to 
hurt it, lest it should bring rain. The Norwe- 
gians call it Marspaert, and count the spots to 
see if there will be a good harvest. If there be 
fewer than seven spots, they say bread will be 
plenty and cheap. The children sing : 

Marspaert, fleeg in Himmel ! 
Bring m/n Sack voll Kringeln ; my een, dy een, 
Alle liitten Engeln een. 

Marspaert, fly to heaven ! 
Bring me a sackful of biscuits ; one for me, one for thee, 
For all little angels one. 

The Scotch children call this insect Lady 
Lanners, or Landers. They say : 

Lady, Lady Lanners, 

Lady, Lady Lanners, 

Tak' up your clowk about your head, 

And flee away to Flanners. 

Flee ower firth, and flee ower fell, 

Flee ower pule and rinnan well, 

Flee ower muir, and flee o'wer mead, 



I 9° ABOUT BEETLES. 

Flee ower livan, flee ower dead, 
Flee ower corn, and flee ower lea, 
Flee ower raver, flee ower sea, 
Flee ye east, or flee ye west, 
Flee till him that lo'es me best. 

There are many other little rhymes in various 
languages, which show how children every 
where love this insect. Perhaps they do not 
know that it is useful as well as pretty. 

The family of Cicindelidce are called Tiger 
Beetles, or Sparklers. They get the first name 
from the fierce way in which they seize and 
devour other insects, and the last from their 
brilliant colors. The Tiger Beetle is among 
insects what the kite is among birds, or the 
shark among fishes. He runs with great speed ; 
he is armed with jaws like sickles, crossmg 
each other; his eyes project from each side of 
his head, that he may see every way ; his wings 
help him to fly as swiftly as a wasp. His suit 
of mail, of burnished steel embossed with gold, 
is more beautiful than any thing ever wrought 
by mortal armorer. If placed under the micro- 



THE WATER BEETLE. I<?I 

scope in a strong light, his whole surface seems 
ablaze with precious metals and dazzling gems. 
The larvae make their homes in the ground in 
trunnels about a foot deep. Here one of them 
lies in ambush just at the top of the ground, 
the head hooked to the edge of the hole. 
When an insect passes, the jaws grasp it, and 
drag it to the bottom of the den, to be eaten. 

Another family of carnivorous Beetles lives 
in the water. Their breathing tubes open 
under the wing-cases. When they dive, they 
carry down under the wings a supply of air, 
and as this becomes exhausted, they rise, lift 
the wings above the surface, and so take a fresh 
supply. The larva of the Water Beetle is as 
active and as fierce as that of the Tiger Beetle, 
and the full grown insect does not outgrow his 
youthful tastes. If several be put in a vessel 
together, they will surely eat each other. A 
gentleman placed a pair in his aquarium :u 
order to observe their habits. He succeeded in 
observing, on the next morning, that the male 



I9 2 ABOUT BEETLES. 

had been killed and partly eaten by his disconso- 
late widow. 

The whirligigs, that shoot from side to side 
on the top of still water, belong to this family. 

One of the most noted Beetles is the Cucuyo, 
or Fire-fly of Mexico and Brazil. It wears on 
each side of the chest two light patches, which 
by day are pale yellow, but by night glow with 
a very intense light. When it spreads its wings, 
its whole body seems filled with the most brilliant 
flame. It flies by night, and the forests, filled 
with these insects, crossing and recrossing in 
every direction, glowing and vanishing as if 
suddenly lighted and as suddenly extinguished, 
present a scene too beautiful to be described. 

The Indians catch these beetles by balancing 
hot coals in the air at the end of a stick, to 
attract them, which proves that the light which 
their bodies diffuse is to attract. Once in the 
hands of the women, the Oucuyos are shut up 
in little cages of very fine wire, and fed on frag- 
ments of sugar-cane. When the Mexican ladies 
wish to adorn themselves with these living dia- 



the cucuros. 193 

monds, they place them iu little bags of light 
tulle, which they arrange with taste on their 
skirts. There is another way of mounting the 
Cucuyos. They pass a pin, without hurting 
them, under the thorax, and stick this pin in 
their hair. The refinement of elegance consists 
in combining with the Cucuyos, humming-birds 
and real diamonds, which produce a dazzling 
head-dress. Sometimes, imprisoning these ani- 
mated flames in gauze, the graceful Mexican 
women twist them into ardent necklaces, or else 
roll them round their waists, like a fiery girdle. 
They go to the ball under a diadem of living 
topazes, of animated emeralds, and this diadem 
blazes or pales according as the insect is fresh 
or fatigued. When they return home, after the 
soiree, they make them take a bath, which 
refreshes them, and put them back again into 
the cage, which sheds during the whole night 
a soft light in the chamber. In the full glow 
of one of these Fire-flies, it is easy to read 
a letter or a book. The little Flies which dart 



194 ABOUT BEETLES. 

through our meadows in moist summer even- 
ings, are akin, though far less brilliant. 

The last family we will mention, are the Can- 
tharides, or Blister-flies. They secrete a sub- 
stance which, when procured by itself, looks 
like fine snow-flakes; when it is left upon the 
skin it causes great irritation, and soon pro- 
duces blisters. The Spanish Fly is nearly an 
inch long ; its color is a satin green, glossed 
with gold. It feeds upon the ash and lilac, and 
is found also on the poplar, the rose, and the 
honeysuckle. Large quantities are taken, killed 
by fumes of vinegar, and exported for druggists' 
use. Several kinds of Blister-flies live among 
us. The Potato-fly, which consumes the vines 
at midsummer, is of this family. Another 
often strips the leaves from the clematis. These 
flies may be caught by shaking them from the 
vines into water, which prevents their flying, 
and when dry they may be used by the apothe* 
caries. 




AMPHRISIUS BUTTERFLY, CATERViLLAR, 
AND CHRYSALrS. 



About Butterflies. 



Articulata — Insecta. 

Order — Lepidoptera, Scale-winged. 




)GH ! See that horrid, ugly 
worm !" "Who has not heard 
such an outcry ? Is there any 
good reason for the feeling which 
it indicates ? We believe that 
the repugnance which very many 
really feel towards creatures of 
this kind is not, as they think, 
natural, or inborn, but is the result of early 
training. When the young mother sees her 
toddling baby busily watching a caterpillar, 
she bids him, with earnest words, with looks 
and accents of disgust, avoid the " horrid, nasty 



I98 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

thing;" his growing curiosity is checked, and 
darling Willie Winkie comes to believe that a 
worm or a spider is the vilest thing he can 
know, as confidently as he believes he loves his 
mother or his sister. Whoever has overcome 
the feeling, thus artificially acquired, long 
enough to begin the study of the forms, the 
nature, and the wonderful transformations of 
caterpillars of every kind, has learned that in 
this, as in all other departments of nature, the 
infinite resources of the creative power of God 
are wonderfully displayed. 

Considering the entire round of the creature's 
iife, the whole world of birds, insects, and flow- 
ers presents nothing more interesting or lovely. 
If nature's course is not disturbed, the worm 
will fly on wings of beautiful form, exquisite 
coloring, and most delicate plumage; the moth 
or the butterfly assuredly was, at some day not 
long since, a crawling worm. But we go yet 
farther, and confidently assert, that at no stage 
of its varied life does the insect show to the 
student so much that has interest or value, or 



CATTERPILLARS DO HARM. 199 

to the general observer much more of absolute 
beauty of color, symmetry, and adaptation, than 
when it is so often abhorred as a " horrid, ugly 
worm." 

We do not deny that caterpillars of all kinds 
do much mischief. They eat, eat voraciously, 
and have the instinct to select the choicest 
parte of that on which they thrive. Most sub- 
sist on vegetable food, and chiefly on leaves ; 
yet some devour the solid wood, some live in 
the pith, and some eat only grains and seeds. 
Some kinds attack woolens and furs ; even 
leather, meat, wax, flour, and lard, nourish par- 
ticular kinds of caterpillars. There is, then, no 
reason why they may not be destroyed, so that 
their numbers may be kept within reasonable 
limits. But we should not assert that the poor 
creatures are ugly, and then kill them because 
we have given them a bad name. 

Let us see what we can learn by studying the 

lives of a few ; we could wish that every reader, 

young or old, could have the specimens under 

2 M 



2 0O ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

his own eyes, sure as we are that he would find 
more of 

fin the mon: en the feathery ear- 

rot leaves are growing well, we may find reed- 
ing on them a a worm, nearly black, which 

- perhaps g > half an inch before we 

discover him : he may be re than a tenth 

an inch long. If none a: on the car- 

rots se of 

the car raw the worm 

::r;v c s on ^i:her. H large as an 

and a fit behind his 

head. He wears a c!ean. tighkfitting coat of 
black velvet, with a white band across 

: his back, and another over his 
tail; the velvet seems to be laid him in 

folds, uia to be studded with snoaii black 
points. If touched, he throws his head back 
quickly, as if annoyed a: the impertinence. 
Tickle him with as: and he pushes an 

orange-j m the : his 

head, toward the side which was touched; 
tickle the other side, another appears. Both 



CHANGING THE SKIN 201 

issue from the same opening, and the two 
branch like the two parts of a V. They are 
scent organs. Immediately a smell is diffused, 
at first not unfragrant — like some kind of over 
ripe fruit — but soon sickening ; by this odor 
he probably protects himself from the ichneu- 
mon-flies, which would else trouble him ; and 
by it, also, you may know that your specimen 
is that which we describe. 

You may gather a few leaves of the carrot, 
with the worm, and put them in any safe, airy 
place where you can watch him day by day ; 
a supply of fresh food will keep him from 
going away for the present ; or you may 
observe him on the plant where you found 
him. 

In a few days he will quite likely cease to 
eat. If it were a canary, or a squirrel, which 
does not dispose of his rations, you might guess 
that your pet is sick, and so be anxious about 
him, but you need take little thought for the 
worm. He becomes restless. He twists quickly 
from aide to side. Presently his skin bursts 



202 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

just above or behind his head, and he actually 
begins to creep out of it. There, it is done. 
Your worm is yonder, in a new velvet jacket, 
several sizes larger, quite differently and more 
handsomely marked. It is arranged in cross- 
way folds, as before. On each fold the sober 
black is enlivened by several bright orange 
spots ; on the middle of the back, where the 
white fold lay, is a small white spot, surrounded 
by six others, while three more are arranged a 
little lower on either side. The old garment, 
a shriveled, useless thing, lies there, where he 
crept out of it, after having fastened its hinder 
hooks to the leaf on which he rested. 

Xow he takes his food with renewed relish. 
He moves more freely, and seems much more 
at ease in his new and enlarged garment. For 
several weeks this process goes on. He eats, 
grows, outgrows his old clothes, and creeps out 
of them in a new and larger suit, — mamma, 
did you never wish Bobby could do so too, 
instead of wearing his trousers out at the knees, 
and kicking his toes through the copper? — 



STRUCTURE. 203 

until after four or five weeks, and about as 
many changes, he is a full grown worm, or cat- 
erpillar. When at rest, he is rather more than 
an inch and a half long ; when creeping about, 
he stretches more than two inches. The velvet 
coat is quite gone. In its place he wears a gar- 
ment softer and smoother than the finest satin, 
or perhaps more like the delicate kid of which 
gloves are made, save that the worm's skin is 
far more delicate. The color is apple-green, 
paler on the sides, and whitish beneath : the 
bands are black, dotted with yellow spots, so 
placed as to form regular lines along his body. 
In structure, our caterpillar is an example of 
all others. His body is made of twelve rings 
of tolerably firm substance, connected by softer 
bands, and covered with skin. Thus he has 
the most perfect freedom of motion. He can 
stretch or contract himself, can turn or twist in 
any direction, can roll into a ring, or straighten 
out stiff, like a twig of the plant on which he 
feeds, or conform to any uneven ness of surface 
over which he may creep. His head is covered 



204 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

with a flattened, shelly dish, provided on each 
side with six minute shining grains, which 
naturalists say are eyes. They do not say that 
caterpillars can see; Dr. Morris thinks " it is 
very doubtful whether they have the faculty of 
vision.'' One who watches a worm feeding, 
moving about, reaching out this way and that, 
quite ignorant of any danger that threatens, 
passing at the shortest distance the very thing 
which it seems to seek, never recognizing any 
thing except what it touches, and shrinking 
only when it is touched, can scarcely fail to 
conclude that, however many eyes the worm 
may have, it is, in fact, quite blind. 

The mouth is armed with a pair of strong 
jaws, which open and shut, not vertically, like 
those of a dog, or a man, but sidewise. In 
the middle of the broad under lip is a small 
elastic tube, with a minute opening, whence 
comes the silk which it will some day find use- 
ful. In tropical countries the head is often 
queerly ornamented with spikes, prickles, 



CATERPILLARS' LEGS. 20$ 

horns, and other things ; those which we may 
see rarely have any thing of the kind. 

Each of the first three rings of the body has 
a pair of jointed, tapering legs, covered with 
scaly or horny mail, and ending with hooks. 
These are the true legs. The worm has, 
besides, four to ten — usually eight — false, or 
pro-legs. These are thick, fleshy, without 
joints, but can stretch or contract like the 
body, are furnished at the end with a fringe 
of small hooks, and can take very different 
forms, as the animal wishes to cling by them 
to various surfaces. Caterpillars which have 
(the full number of legs, that is, sixteen, have 
still four rings unprovided, the fourth and fifth, 
and the tenth and eleventh. The twelfth, or 
anal ring, has alw r ays a pair ; the ninth has usu- 
ally a pair; the other pro-legs vary with the 
species. 

The motions of a large caterpillar which 
has the full complement of legs are delib- 
erate and regular. First he stretches out the 
elastic body, and puts down the six horny 



2o6 



ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 



legs together; then the pair of anal legs take 
themselves up, and replace themselves close 
behind the pair of the ninth ring, shutting 
down upon the twig or leaf, as if made of India 
rubber; then the other pairs of pro-legs lift and 
move forward, the hindermost rising and fall- 
ing first, and the others following in their 
order; mean while, motion seems to begin at 
the tail, and flow gradually and equably through 
the entire body, ending by pushing the head 
on for another stretch. The motion of such as 
have but one or two pairs of pro-legs is similar 
in fact, though different in appearance. The 
hind legs are drawn forward, and set down just 
behind the true legs, the body being thrown up 
into a loop; this loop straightened out, carries 
on the fore legs again. These caterpillars are 
called loopers, geometers, or measurers, since 
they seem to measure off the distance of therr 
journeys. Gail Hamilton's gardener says they 
do so : measuring with his thumb and finger on 
his coat sleeve. 

The looper caterpillars can not shorten or 



THEIR VORACITY. ZOJ 

lengthen their bodies like others, but only 
bend them. Some are round and stiff, of the 
same color as the bark on which they live. 
They grasp the stem or twig with their four 
pro-legs, while the body stands out stiff and 
motionless for hours together, and the ob- 
server mistakes them for twigs, or leaf-stems. 
Each kind of caterpillar feeds by choice only 
on certain kinds of food, and most will refuse 
any other variety. They usually prefer leaves ; 
after that, flowers; a few eat the pith of the 
stalk, and occasional species, the pulp of 
fruits. Most feed by night, and remain quiet 
by day, as if torpid ; some are so voracious as 
to eat constantly. A silkworm devours its own 
weight of mulberry leaves, daily. Reaumur 
gave to a kind which eats cabbage, bits of cab- 
bage leaf which weighed twice as much as their 
bodies. The pieces were consumed in less than 
twenty-four hours, while the worms increased 
their weight one tenth. What if a man weigh- 
ing 150 pounds, should eat 300 pounds of food 
in a day, and gain 15 pounds of flesh ! 



208 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

"When a caterpillar wishes food, it creeps out 
to the edge of a leaf, and twists its body into 
such a position that this edge passes between 
its legs, which hook on upon each side. It 
bites a mouthful from the edge, then another, 
and another, moving its head in the arc of a 
circle, and cutting in three or four bites, as a 
reaper would cut handfuls of grain with his 
sickle ; the head moves back to the edge of the 
leaf, and begins another sweep; the fore legs 
move slowly on from time to time, until the 
caterpillar has stretched its body to its full 
length. Then the body draws itself back again, 
the pro-legs keeping their places, and the head 
cuts in again for a new swath. The pulp of 
the leaf is eaten down to the ribs, and often 
ribs and all disappear between the voracious 
jaws. 

But we must return to our caterpillar of the 
carrot-leaves. When he has finished eating, he 
becomes uneasy. He no longer rests quietly on 
his leaf, or he moves only to find fresh pastur- 



SPINNING. 209 

age ; he begins to wander about, and if we do 
not shut him up, we shall lose him altogether. 
Presently we find him quiet again in some 
secluded corner at the top of the case; if he 
could, he would have found a retreat in a knot- 
hole, a crevice between boards, or an obscure 
nook under the fence rail. He now presses the 
elastic tube of his under lip to the wood; the 
silk material adheres to it; he draws his head 
away, and stretches a fibre of silk to another 
point, where he fastens it by pressing the fresh 
material against the surface. He crosses and 
recrosses the threads until he has covered a 
little space with a hillock of silk, to which 
he fastens himself firmly by the hooks of his 
hinder feet. Now clinging by his pro-legs, he 
bends his head back to about the fifth ring, and 
fastens a thread to the wood beside him. This 
thread he carries over his back, and fastens on 
the opposite side ; he lays beside it a second, 
and a third, and in a little time has spun a 
stout band or loop of silk, in which he may rest 
securely. 



2 1 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

Some caterpillars, like the dark-colored 
worms, covered with spines, which infest the 
hop vines, do not spin the band for the back, 
but content themselves with the little mass of 
silk into which the hinder hooks are fastened. 
These simply hang themselves up, and let their 
bodies fall into a vertical position. The next 
business is to throw off, for the last time, its 
skin. To do this, it constantly bends and 
straightens its body, until the dried skin splits 
along the back, and part of the body beneath 
appears. Next, it draws the fore part of the 
body out of its covering. Then it lengthens 
and shortens itself by turns, each time splitting 
the skin still further, and pushing it, like a 
stocking, nearer to its tail, where it is soon 
a mere crumpled packet. Now comes the 
most difficult part of the whole. Out from 
its caterpillar skin the creature has come 
in a smooth, horny armor, laid in rings 
about its body, while its head, back, and 
breast, are swathed, like a mummy, in folds 
which firmly confine every limb. It can only 



CHANGING TO CHRYSALIDES. 211 

wriggle, jerking itself from side to side. Its 
tail is yet in the folds of the caterpillar skin, 
which is hooked to the silk above. It must 
draw itself out of this remnant, throw away 
the cast off garment, and hook itself by its 
tail to the same place. We see now the 
utility of the silken band of our worm of the 
carrot leaves, but the hop worm has no such 
assistance. It has neither arms or legs — how 
can it do so much without losing its own hold, 
aud falling to the ground ? 

The supple, contracting rings which cover its 
own body are the limbs which it uses. It 
seizes a portion of the skin between two of 
these rings, and so holding on, it curves the 
tail until it draws it entirely out of the sheath 
which covered it. But its body is shorter than 
before this change, and it must climb to reach 
the tuft of silk to which it should hang. It 
stretches its body as far as it can, and seizes the 
skin higher up, between two other rings, at the 
same time letting go below; this process it 
repeats with different rings in succession, until 



212 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

finally it reaches the tuft of silk, and fastens to 
it the hooks in its tail. 

It now gives itself a jerk, which sets it to 
spinning rapidly; it rubs against the skin, and 
loosens its hold on the silk. If one whirl is not 
enough, it whirls again, in the opposite direc- 
tion, and this time will almost surely succeed. 
Reaumur saw one which, after several efforts to 
dislodge the old skin, was forced to leave it 
where it was so firmly fastened. 

In about thirty hours after our caterpillar has 
made himself fast, he has effected this change, 
and now hangs by his tail, or in his hammock, 
a pupa, or chrysalis. Here he will remain in 
unconscious security, during all the quiet days 
of autumn, and through the bitter blasts and 
piercing frosts of winter, until the warm breezes 
of another June awaken his dormant powers to 
a new life. 

Other caterpillars make for themselves cases, 
or cocoons, spinning them of silk, and often 
working in other materials. They are for the 
most part oval, or egg-shaped, sometimes boat- 



HOW THE 7 USE THEIR HAIR. 21$ 

shaped, and are usually white, yellow, or brown 
in color. In some, the threads cling very 
slightly; in others, they are closely gummed 
together; some are single, others double; some 
so closely woven as to quite hide the pupa with- 
in, others so thin that it may easily be seen ; 
some bind together leaves, within which they 
hide ; some work into the shell bits of earth ; 
while some weave into the fabric the hairs 
with which their own bodies had been cov- 
ered. 

One variety pulls out its hairs with its teeth, 
lays them against the web already spun, and 
then fastens them by spinning more silk over, 
or, rather, under them — for the outside of the 
cocoqn is spun first, and thickened from within. 
Another does not pull out its hairs; it cuts 
them off. Another works its hairs through the 
meshes of the silken net, and then wriggles 
about until it rubs them off. Another pulls 
them out in the first place, then sets them up 
like the stakes of a palisade, and spins a light 



214 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

web within, curving them inward so as to form 
a sort of cradle. 

Many caterpillars go into the ground to 
become chrysalides; there they make round or 
oblong cocoons. These are always smooth and 
shining within, and are often fitted with a lin- 
ing of silk. Reaumur took a cocoon out of the 
ground, broke it open, and placed it in a glass 
case containing nothing but sand. In four 
hours the injury was repaired. 

The caterpillar began by coming almost 
entirely out. It moved its head forwards until 
it could seize a bit of earth, which it drew into 
the cocoon; then it came out for another, and 
so wrought for an hour, gathering material. 
Then it began to rebuild the broken place. 
First it spun a band of loose web over a part 
of the opening; then it placed a few of its 
grains of earth in the meshes which it had 
made; it spun more silk, and put more grains 
in place, binding them together with silken 
cords. Presently the whole was closed except 
one small opening, which it filled with crossed 



THE B UTTER FL Y APPEARS. 2 1 5 

threads, and then finally stopped by pushing 
among the threads the bit of sand which it 
had saved for the purpose, and which made all 
tight. 

A caterpillar found on the oak trees cuts off 
thin strips of bark, which it builds into two 
compact blades; these it so arranges as to form 
a hollow cone, or boat-shaped shell, in which 
it becomes a pupa. It is at once architect, cab- 
inet-maker, and weaver. 

In due time — sometimes in a few days, 
sometimes not until another summer, and in 
one instance, after as many as seven years — 
the time comes for the last, and most glo- 
rious transformation. The poetical Greeks 
found in this change a type of the liberation 
of the soul from its mortal tenement, and its 
entrance into a higher and happier life ; hence 
they called the Butterfly, Psyche, the soul. 
This idea is most natural. The worm seems 
to spin its own shroud, to make its own coffin, 
often to enter its own grave. Yet within this 
shroud, this coffin, this grave, it lives, a dor- 

2N 



2l6 



ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 



mant, waiting life, until the day comes for its 
resurrection. Then it bursts its cerements, and 
emerges in a new and beautiful garb, into a 
brighter existence. But the new life, unlike 
that of the soul, is brief and mortal; a few 
short days complete its round, and it perishes 
forever. 

The pupa-case is dry, brittle, and easily 
broken. The least movement of the fly within 
opens the dry skin over the middle of the 
upper part of the thorax; the split extends 
over the forehead ; the pieces separate, and the 
insect finds an opening through which it may 
escape. But the escape requires time, for the 
head, the antennae, the wings, the legs, some- 
times even the tongue, are each in a separate 
case, and must be liberated one by one. All 
the parts are soft and moist. The wings, espe- 
cially, are a pair of crumpled packages, fast- 
ened to either side of the thorax. Gradually 
they unfold, they expand; the insect clings to 
a twig, and suffers them to hang in such a posi- 
tion that they may expand the more freely; in 



GLOWING COLORS. 217 

time they become dry and firm. If the pupa 
is in a cocoon, there is yet more to be done, 
for it is still within the silken envelope. In 
some, as in the Cecropia moth, the end of the 
cocoon opposite the head is only partially closed, 
and the moth more easily creeps out. Others 
cut their way through the silk, for which, Reau- 
mur says, they use their compound eyes as files. 
Others exude a liquid which softens the silk, 
and assists their escape. 

The perfect insect has four wings, covered 
with minute scales of varied forms; these, 
under the microscope, glow with the most beau- 
tiful metallic tints. " Suppose a painter could 
present on his canvas, in all their splendor, 
gold, silver, the ruby, the sapphire, the emer- 
ald, all the precious stones of the East, he 
would use no color, or shade of color, which 
might not be found on some scales of some 
Lepidoptera, where nature has concealed them 
from our gaze." 

The thorax, or chest, is strongly made, in 
order that it may give support to the wings, 



2 1 8 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

and to the six legs. Many have the legs of 
equal length, and use all in walking ; in others, 
the two fore legs are very short, and are kept 
folded back against the chest. The body is 
long, oval, composed of five rings, joined by 
membrane. The head is rounded, flattened in 
front, and furnished with hairs. The globular 
eyes consist of a great number of facets, on 
which, in different species, glitter all the hues 
of the rainbow. In the compound eye of the 
Papilio, more than 17,000 facets have been 
counted. The antennae are placed near the 
upper border of each eye. Reaumur has fig- 
ured six different shapes, and upon them the 
classification into families partly depends. 
What is their use? Certainly not for sight, 
taste, or smell. They are of little use as 
feelers, and there seems to be nothing else for 
them to do, which we can understand, except to 
serve as ears. 

The jaws of the caterpillar have disappeared. 
Instead, the Butterfly has a long, flexible trunk, 
which it coils up into a small spiral, and carries 



LAYING EGGS. 219 

in a cleft just between the eyes. In some spe- 
cies of Hawk-moths, the tongue is longer than 
the whole body. It consists of three hollow 
tubes, a small one placed between two that are 
larger. Through it the insect draws honey 
and the juice of flowers. But how can it eat 
even the most solid sugar? On examination it 
appears that it sends down through one or two 
of the tubes of its trunk a fluid which dissolves 
the honey, or sugar, which is then carried back 
through the other tube. 

After the Butterfly has found its mate, it lays 
its eggs, some hundreds or thousands in num- 
ber, upon the plant which is the proper food 
for its young. They vary much in shape and 
color. Usually they adhere by a gummy sub- 
stance; sometimes they are covered with the 
down from the abdomen of the mother, to pro- 
tect them from cold, or injury. Some species 
place them in clusters; others scatter them, 
leaving only a few upon any single plant. In 
a few warm days they are hatched, producing 



2 20 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES, 

minute caterpillars, and the round of nature a 
course is completed. 

Of the Lepidoptera some fly by day, others in 
the twilight, others still in the darkr- 
night Hence authors have classed them as 
diurnal, crepuscular, and nocturnal. But thi3 
division is not found to be entire nee 

some that fly by night fly also during the bright- 
est and hottest sunshine, while even the night 
flyers do not fly all night. There arc 
principal section-. 

First, there are the Butterflies. These fly by 
day, have club shaped antennae, and when at 
rest, the fore wings in some, and all the Wrings 
in most, stand perpendicularly, turned back to 
back. 

Second, the Hawk-moths. These fly, some 
by day, but most in the morning and evening 
twilight; they have the antennae thickened in 
the middle, the wings narrow in proportion 
to their length, and confined together by a 
bunch of stiff bristles on the shoulder of I 
hind wing, which is held by a ho^ rath 



PAPILIO ASTERIAS. 221 

the fore wing; the wings, when at rest, are 
more or less inclined like a roof, the fore wings 
covering the under ones. 

Third, the Moths. These fly mostly by night. 
The antennae taper from the base to the end, 
and are naked, like a bristle, or feathered on 
each side; the wings are held together by 
hooks and bristles, the first pair, when at rest, 
covering the under pair, and more or less 
sloped. 

Our space will not allow us to describe any 
of the many varieties of Butterflies and Moths 
which fly among us. The worm whose changes 
we traced from the carrot-tops, produces a 
large, fine Butterfly, called Papilla Asterias^ 
which expands from three and a half to four 
inches. Its color is black; it has a broad band 
of sulphur-yellow spots across the wings, and 
a row of fainter yellow spots along the edge. 
The hind wings are tailed, and have seven blue 
spots between the two rows of yellow, and au 
eye-spot of orange, with a black centre. 



222 ABO UT B UTTERFLIES. 



J-fow to Patch and J^reserye j3utterflie& 

Any active, careful lad can secure a beautiful 
collection of Butterflies and Moths in a single 
season. For this he needs: a net; an ounce 
of chloroform, or sulphuric ether ; pins ; a set- 
ting-box ; suitable boxes for keeping and dis- 
playing specimens. 

Mosquito-netting is good enough for the net; 
make a bag about two feet long, and wide 
enough to be sewed to a light wooden hoop, 
twelve or fourteen inches in diameter, aud fast- 
ened firmly to a handle about three feet long 
Or, take three or four springs from a discarded 
hoop-skirt ; leave the cotton covering on ; slip 
them through a hem made at the mouth of the 
net; have them project three or four inches 
beyond the hem at each side ; break off the 
extra length, and then bend the projecting por- 
tions to a right angle ; lay these pieces flatly 
against the handle and bind fast with smooth 



THE SETTING-BOX. 22 



O 



twine. The net thus made is very light, flexi- 
ble, and convenient. 

For a setting-box, any roomy box, of wood 
or pasteboard, two or three inches deep, will 
do. The bottom may be covered with thin 
sheet cork, pasted or glued down ; or, instead, 
strips of corn-stalks serve to hold the points 
of the pins very well. Some strips should 
have a groove between them one-fourth of an 
inch deep by three-eighths of an inch wide, to 
receive the bodies of the larger specimens. 

Where nothing better can be had, the bot- 
tom of the box may be arranged thus : get 
strips of inch board, about an inch wide, and 
as long as the box ; if the edges are sawed 
smoothly, do not plane them, but smooth the 
upper surface, and plane off each upper corner; 
place the sawed edges of two strips together 
and nail them ; then nail on a third, and so on, 
until a board is built wide enough to cover the 
box. The corners which were planed off now 
leave triangular grooves, while the sawed edges, 
though quite close, still allow the pins to pass 



224 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

between them. It is better to nail the strips 
together than to fasten them with cleats, be- 
cause the joints hold the pins better. By a 
little care the grooves may be made of different 
depths, to receive specimens of different sizes. 

Common brass pins may be used ; needles 
of various sizes are better ; best of all, the Ger- 
man pins made for the purpose, and sold by 
dealers in philosophical instruments. 

The permanent cases are best of wood, 
tightly made, and glazed on one or both sides. 
When only one side is glazed, the bottoms may 
be fitted like that of the setting box, and should 
be lined with white paper. Bits of camphor 
should be fastened in them to drive away 
insects, or some fine day only a few wings, 
legs, and the dust of bodies will remain of the 
most valued specimens. 

But little can be gained by striking at But- 
terflies on the wing. Find one which is rest- 
ing on a flower, or on the ground; approach 
quietly, bring the net up carefully until quite 
sure of him, then turn it skillfully, and he is 



PLACING THE WINGS. 225 

caught ; hold up the hag, while the hoop is flat 
on the ground, the insect usually rises into it, 
and the folds falling over prevent the spoiling 
of the wings. 

Now touch the head with a drop of ether, to 
stupefy him, take him out gently, put a pin 
through the thorax between the roots of the 
wings, and place him in the setting-box. As 
Izaak Walton says of using a frog for bait, 
"Use him as though you loved him." Arrange 
the feet as naturally as possible ; then with a 
needle push the fore wings forward until their 
hinder edges lie nearly in a straight line — 
beginners do not usually bring them forward 
enough. Then lay over the wings on each side 
a strip of paper, or of card, and fasten it down 
at each end with a pin, which must not pass 
through the wings. Take care that the two 
sides are placed alike. Some specimens of 
each kind should be set upon their backs, to 
display the under surfaces. Leave them in the 
setting box until thoroughly dry, allowing two 
or three weeks for the larger kinds ; other- 



226 



ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 



wise the wings will get awry, or droop, and 
the whole have an awkward appearance. 

Ether, and chloroform, often fail to kill; 
some of the larger moths take large and 
repeated doses, and still live. For such, a 
little cyanide of potassium may be had, dis- 
solved in water. A drop taken on a needle 
and pricked into the thorax under the wings, 
is merciful to the poor captive. Great care 
must be taken with this substance, for it is very 
poisonous when taken into the mouth. 

Hawk-moths, and many others, fly very 
swiftly, and require great dexterity in their 
captor ; take them when busy with a flower. 
Many moths may be attracted through an open 
window with a light. During the day they 
may often be found resting, head down, on 
fences, bark of trees, and elsewhere. Cover 
your specimen with a glass, slip a paper under, 
and take him away; a few drops of ether on 
the paper fills the glass with vapor, which suffo- 
cates the insect. Some of each kind of moth 



THE WORM-CASE. 2^7 

should be set up, with wings in the natural 
position, as when at rest. 

Set up a number of specimens of each 
kind, in order to secure a choice; four are 
always wanted to show the upper and under 
surfaces of both male and female. Reject at 
once all that are broken-winged, or other- 
wise injured, unless the species is rare, and 
then as soon as a better one is found. The 
collector secures his finest specimens by sav- 
ing the cocoons, and taking the flies as soon 
as hatched, before they have had time to injure 
themselves. The cocoons should be kept 
through the winter in a cool place, in a roomy 
box; when the time comes for hatching, twigs 
must be provided, on which the butterflies may 
rest while the wings are expanding, else they 
may be hopelessly crippled. 

Early in summer, get a candle box, and raise 
the lid about twelve inches, on strips of board 
nailed into the four corners ; cover three sides 
of the open case with wire gauze, and fit a door 
to the fourth side. Fill the box with fresh gar- 



228 ABOUT BUTTERFLIES. 

den mould, and set it away in a shady place. 
If a new caterpillar is found, put him in the 
case with 'plenty of fresh food. The inhabitants 
will not quarrel, and will usually thrive. When 
grown, some will descend into the earth; some 
will spin cocoons, and some will hang them- 
selves up in the corners. Keep through winter 
in a cool place, away from mice, and watch the 
coming out of the insects in the spring. 

A little patience and contrivance will do all 
we have described, and more, while much plea- 
sure and instruction will be gained. Even this, 
profitable though it may be, should not be 
allowed to interfere with the performance of 
regular duty, whether work or study. 



Note. — The general reader who desires further infor- 
mation concerning the species and habits of insects, will 
find " Harris' Insects Injurious to Vegetation," and the 
" Guide to the Study of Entomology," by A. S. Packard, 
Jr., now issuing in numbers in Salem, Mass., best suited 
fro his purpose. 



